​The door you’ll never walk through

[lil bit of a vent poem/short story]

You chose convenient comfort over a gamble on me. You walked backwards through a doorway you clawed your way out of. You slammed the door I was gently opening in my face, and although you decided you never want to see, I’ll offer you a peek through the crack anyways.

Behind the door you’ll never walk through I wait for you to get home from work eager like a dog. I spend the daylight tending to my ambitions so I may worship you in the dark. When you finally arrive my tail is wagging and I kiss you uncontrollably and messy. I kneel at my alter to pray, removing your shoes with my lips pressing gently behind your knees.

I’ve lit a candle in the shower. Your favorite pajamas lie on the counter warm and clean. While you adorn the walls of my cathedral with sweet smelling lotions, I am in the kitchen speaking incantations of healing and nourishment over the stove to cast a spell that will make you close your eyes and smile when you take a bite.

Your bowl is always packed with keif, the bong filled with ice. My mouth is always warm and hungry, craving you. Dinner on the couch with you is my sacred mass. Kneeling again, my tongue extended gazing up at you I beg for my daily bread. You have forgiven my trespasses as I have forgiven your trespass against me. There is no sorrow between us, only pure love and unbridled pleasure.

Behind this door I still wait, just no longer for you. You tossed your key into the ocean, but someday it will wash upon the shores of someone who will gamble on me, and win.