The Logic of Leaving

 I spent a week in the tundra that is Minnesota and was presented with the logic of leaving and the reasons for returning. I felt my high school wild child at the soft spot in my neck gasping for a breath, after two days home I had opened my mouth so wide that she almost had access to the open air. But I've spent time gaping with her peering out before and know that she tends to steal all my oxygen. I slept in my sisters bed every night our temples touching, willing myself to remember the curve of her neck and the length in her feet, I wrapped my fingers twice around her hair mourning the loss of this sight. I left the tiny block in my heart under the floorboards, something tells me that old and colorful house can handle what I've left behind.