THE ONE THAT GOT AWAY

Saturday October 1, 2022, 3:28pm

Another interstate exit away from you.

And while the rumble of my engine keeps me grounded,

my body feels twenty lanes ahead.

Why isn’t this working?

Is this a poem because I demand it to be?

Another notebook full of memories

loose paper running wild

and another,

and another,

still without you.

You left a couple of journals ago,

but your plagiarized words are still fresh on my lips.

“Sweet tea turns bitter when you brew it for too long,”

a man at a Florida market once told me.

Here I am,

listening to the tide wash in and out.

My ballpoint pen stuck in the same spot,

the paper damp from the light sea breeze.

Oh, how the ocean makes me feel so small.

I still write about you.

You’ve probably forgotten most of the words I’ve said,

but I will never forget yours.

That’s the thing about falling in love with a poet.

The sweet tea never turns bitter.