Tripping over Hawthorn Trees

An inaudible whisper
lost track of her train of thought,
tumbling over excuses,
sipping rum on an autumn evening;
her name kindled my walls;
guarded to save me from me.
Sleep won’t let her rest until she crawls
over broken glass to meet me beneath
the hawthorn tree.
A single tear spreads mascara,
rolling to a spot on her shirt.
I slept alone, tossing and turning.
My mind’s eye salivates over
nude pictures of her on my phone.
Days after, I concluded she was the one.
My eyes flickered open with the shine of a flashlight.
We slept together beneath the damn tree.
We gathered our clothes and ran from the cops,
tripping over hawthorn trees.

(© 2022 AC)

(WattpadAmazon KindleSpillwordsThe Writers Club)

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