The pavement sizzled with lust.
I felt the sweat on my brow,
bringing me back to summer.
I siphoned enough heartache
to rescue the brokenhearted.
I plugged my ears.
It’s too early to hear Hannah’s voice
or reminisce about whether I had another choice.
A choice to head to Carolina or stay in Seattle,
which she told me don’t say no.
At the kitchen table,
Hannah was slathering butter on toast.
I’m still hungover.
God, not now.
It’s too late for I’m sorry.
Don’t try it!
Sick and tired of convincing myself
that I’ll be good enough.
The bedroom door squeaks open.
Hannah’s clothes fell to the floor.
Who let you in here?
No one.
You win.
Come in.

(© 2022 AC)

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