parting words from a stranger

What you told me in your doorway when I finally got up to leave was that maybe things won't look or feel the way you think they will. I cusped that notion, I gently lead it down the street and over many moons and I found that it held water. When the splinters came loose and all was said and done I realized you were right, because I felt sublime and small, because he let me leave without a fight, because I woke up minutes before my alarm that morning, and every morning since, and felt at ease. I saw truth float out from the curling steam above my tea, I giggled softly to myself and peeled off your tee shirt. Bare chested I glanced around and shed another layer of myself.