We hold hands
in a Seattle house
we’ve yet to own
as a home of our own.
Endless possibilities form
as dreams kick up dust,
no thanks to Dad.
Mine or hers,
eventually,
looking for reasons
to leave or stay
when hearts become
plastic cards
but the spark
remains in the tone
in her voice,
and it’s meant to be.
The foreclosure I feared
slides off the table of fate
and five years ends when we do.
Twitter – @AC0040
(© 2022 AC)
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