swinging there

A. came and he is late. he is coming to get his things, there he goes again, coming and going. maybe i kicked him out or he is living somewhere else, but he has to go now. i look down at him over the bannister of the white staircase. he gives me a big Fake smile so i know he is there. he is angry underneath the skin, but he whistles and sings to himself as he gathers his things. he reminds me of T., the gap between the two front teeth. sometimes i am afraid he wants to kill me. C. and i rifle through a bag of his things, full of women's makeup and some pills. i try waiting for him in the small room but we keep coming in and out. then we are swinging there, high above the trees, facing one another.