Maybe life is about learning to live with disappointments, but miles behind me there’s still a place in the sand where we stood together. I remember a snow-globe horizon, the chill air of a condo balcony that spun behind us in an early evening full of poker chips, chocolate doughnuts and cheap wine. Then my heart, a heavy paper-weight I adorned in black lace, fishnet legs that found me walking in mirrored shadows past the corners where your heart slept soundly, at peace with the doubt of your mother swinging the door shut on my dreams.
Until then I’d never thought of love as a luxury. Nightfall full with the waves of an angry shore dancing in the dreams of my illusions, botanical sweet and draped across my shoulders like a funeral shawl. I should have known something was falling apart. You silently spelled it in the limp of your hands, the salt of your kiss that burned my lower lip, the glassy look that told me you were already seeing something past me.
I was too proud to allow you to say the words, and I left you with the red fiery of a midnight flight.
I prowled the cold sidewalks of neighborhood alleyways that winter, the frozen soles of my shoes clanging against icy concrete, crushing whatever was left of you like the clinging weeds of a dead root.
I heard you married her soon-after, some grotesquely thin girl who danced into your night like a bright light, rang the bells of your ears in ways I never could. Your silly play-thing, the gray girl next door. As obedient and mediocre as a small-town Sunday paper. Perhaps she indulged you in the double standards I swore against. Maybe her nights were empty jars she was more than happy to fill your whims with.
She’s just a tasteless dish with your marks on her skin but there’s a dusty shelf in my memory where I caged your heart. And I bet she'd be sad to know that some nights I still hear it beating for me like a phantom limb.
Written for a prompt at Red Wolf Poems.
I think I used 24 of these words...