Tara held grudges like I swung bats at strikes.
Confused over a text,
I screamed at my internal dialogue.
We can’t decipher emotions
through an inbox of us
falling apart at the seams.
The vivid reflection escaped
the irony she confused with gratitude.
I received a word or two, which was unlike
the person I’d gotten to know.
I can’t paint her face,
but I can gaze through the facade
of patterns in the traces of her unique framing,
asking when I’m coming home.
Tara arrived at the cliff dive for the second-to-last time.
The still water below mirrors her pale skin,
waiting for her to break free from the fall,
her solitude, admiring her courage like an alluring autumn afternoon.
Until then, we’ll fall in love in person.

Twitter – @AC0040

(© 2023 AC.)

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