Al Chuiso
/Christopher Stolle
I lock the bathroom door when no one’s home.
I know what it’s like to feel robbed—
What it’s like to lose something—
And if anyone’s going to come
Into our home when you’re gone,
I’d rather not lose myself.
My muscles tense and my eyes start sweating.
I can hear something moving around—
Something that might be human—
But I’m going to wait for silence
Because then I’ll hear their leaving
And I can wait for you to arrive.
I’ve known about silence for a long time.
I’ve even missed that quiet now and again—
Like the lost whispers of a tired echo—
But I enjoy your laughter too much
To ever want to go back to when
I lacked sound in my life.
I’d rather lose all my possessions
than for you to lose the noise of me.
Bio: Christopher Stolle has many roles: partner, uncle, son, music aficionado, baseball enthusiast, and, occasionally, writer. His writing has been published by Indiana University Press, Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra, Coaches Choice, “Tipton Poetry Journal,” “Flying Island,” and “Plath Poetry Project,” among many others. He lives in Richmond, Indiana.
