Stalking November

(Published at The Writers Club)

A reckless summer, in case
you don’t recall,
drew to its conclusion,
traveling the windy road
over a torn, beaten path.
The house we shared
is home to you and another.

I only stalk our memories
when the weather gets colder;
let’s say early November.
The attic in my trust
collects dust.

The lights turn out;
the lampshades close.
Even from the street, I could
see your clothes hitting the floor.

What you were doing, only
memorizing lies and your sheepish grin
could explain as an innocent whisper.
I sobbed until it appeared an
unforecasted downpour satiated the thirst
of the oak trees.

Through the gust of my low self-esteem,
my eye bulged, and my heart seized in my chest.
You slapped on the window, asking me to
join you over wine.

(© 2022 AC)

(WattpadAmazon KindleSpillwordsThe Writers Club)

2 thoughts on “Stalking November

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