i fancy someone would come and say, “i found you.”

In this primordial game of hide and seek, I’ll be the one hiding. Anticipating the hints of hushed movements – tiptoes, a long inhale, detained exhale.

I fancy you’d come as a surprise. Just when I least expect you to. Just when I’m about to give up and put myself out there.

On bad days, like this one, I fear that you will not come. I fear that time will catch me behind a tree waiting for you when you do not in fact exist. Then I fancy that I do not give a damn.  But I always secretly do.