Walking through the neighborhood of cards
You built on Sunday mornings
I become a clumsy astronaut
Hindered by this space suit of precariousness
And ever so anxious I may destroy what you created
Because I think to know this:
That the cards are a metaphor of you –
Your exoskeleton laid out, leaving you
Without protection as you trust me not
To break you. You trust
I will cherish your fragility
And I will try to keep that trust unharmed
But did you think of the responsibility
You thrust upon my frame?
There you go
Walking across a rope, blindfolded
Expecting me to keep you from falling
But then why did you step on the rope in the first place?
And why do you depend on me for you to be
Safe and sound and happy?
There is a better guard to take good care
Of all your vulnerability
It is not me. Only you
Can safe you if you want to