An archaic reflection of the night
shimmering off the dancefloor aged me thirty years;
thirty years ago, we said goodbye.
Not me, but she did.
I can’t blame myself today,
only every day.
I’d thrash my arms,
lifting my frothing mouth
and wet eyes to the sky,
hoping the fall breeze would carry my voice
through an echo,
entering her ear at night.
But now, look at you.
Look at me.
All dressed up with anywhere to go.

(© 2022 AC)

(Wattpad, Amazon Kindle.)