Who’s to say it’ll ever be me?
Certainly not me
I compose memories
through innocent infatuation
with a riddle that even I couldn’t decipher.
I’d hitchhike back roads, striding over stones
with blistered toes.
I’m allowed but one mistake.
Even the moonlight lit her name
between parted clouds, steering me
to her home.
I tapped on her door with wet eyes.
The porch light did its thing.
“I’ve got a suggestion, let’s feign
fiction over this collision.”
(© 2022 AC)
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