Boiling Cold Feet

We sat over a lavender glass of wine,
explaining the reasons
to marry the next day.
We flushed through
the fears of the weight of leaving,
when said and done, the other
with an empty home.
She cupped my cheeks, tears streaming.
We brushed the thought under the rug
of dusty palms from moving her shit to her mother’s basement.
I planned for the worst,
but the best of us remains after twenty years
of saying, I do.

(© 2022 AC)

(WattpadAmazon KindleSpillwordsThe Writers Club)

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