My heart, sketched by its empathy,
held fractured dreams across separate coasts.
Beth jetted over states to Carolina for some alone time.
We drifted apart to ponder fonder days of embracing
under the stars and losing our virginity
to Keith Sweat in the bed of her father’s pickup truck.
An arm’s length away, that’s where Beth
was when I saw her reflection through closed eyes.
People said Beth sported her mother’s grin
and her gaze pierced the conflict of solace.
Five years after her absence on a spring day,
I found consolation in waiting at an airport,
hugging the woman in my bedroom.
Twitter – @AC0040
(© 2023 AC)
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