An autumn breeze ruffles the curtains,
flickering rays through the window,
separating evening shadows
well before the alarm clock does its thing.
I was staring at the ceiling, hardly sleeping,
hardly breathing another day without Alisha.
I’d go back to sleep,
but I’d die struggling to weaken her
embrace or dismiss the fingertips
she’d tickling my sides after sweaty sex.
She’d reveal dreams as if to speak them into existence,
swearing me to secrecy that I was better than your ex.
A car horn honked until I shuffled to the window.
It was Alisha holding a sign above her head.
Please forgive me, it read.
I told you I’d be back in mid-November.
(© 2022 AC)
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