To taste the vintage where wildflowers do grow,
A taste of honey and madness, where the cool waters flow,
And end to the imbroglio as he said goodbye,
Really? A text? In front of so many I cried.
No mercy showed he, no private, “it is best,”
A fool was I as I laid my heart to rest.
Laughter followed as I ran for the door,
Tripping over my own feet and I hit the floor.
Oh, floor just pull me down into your depth,
Forget the fact that I openly wept.
A hand reached I felt myself rise,
And wow such beautiful brown eyes.
So long the one that became my ex,
I shall delete your horrible little text.
The stranger held his arm out to me,
And taking it, we let the whole world see.
Outside we parted with a smile and a wave,
We were strangers he just helped me be brave.
As I lay in my bed covers pulled tight,
I dreamed of the stranger holding me in the night.
© Cynthia Clark