His Shoes
“We all walk in shoes too small for us" - Carl Jung
I stare at his shoes on my lap. My eyes see them. My small hands caress over the tough leather. My touch feels them. They are empty today. Like him, sometimes. I place my feet inside them today. I fill the emptiness, for him, sometimes. They feel cold today. Like him, sometimes. I wriggle my toes calmly today. I move to provide the warmth, for him, sometimes. They are big today. Like him, sometimes. I make my feet bigger...
