The beam in Hannah’s eyes peaked
through the long strands of her blonde hair.
The tears that spread across her cheeks
twisted my insides.
Hannah built my trust on a house of cards.
But then she pumped the brakes on us,
after carrying romance in the palm
of her hand.
What am I to do with the memories
of us tangled in her sheets?
My voice relaxed as she whispered
versions of something sweet;
something under my knees but over
my head.
The plan is there was no plan
that’s why she’s pregnant,
auto-corrected her misspelled texts
that I misinterpreted.
“We’ll name her after your late mother,” I said.
“Sure it’s going to be a girl?” Hannah arched a brow.
“Positive.” I smiled.

Twitter – @AC0040

(© 2023 AC)

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