Zodiac Nightmare

There’s this particular nightmare I have

where we’re at a downtown cafe.

It’s sunny outside but also jacket weather,

and for once you’re not complaining about the cold.

A quick breeze bothers

the leaves of an oak

and flicks papers about,

it makes your hair waltz.

We catch up like old friends

about life,

about us,

about fifth and sixth chances,

about how it’ll be different this time around.

You are eating a piece of lemon cake

with a cup of Italian coffee,

while I eat something plain

like a blueberry scone

because I’m too paranoid about my weight.

There is no fighting,

no threats,

no more cuts or bruises.

Infidelity doesn’t exist

because lies do not take up residence

in this space.

We share a laugh together

while a finch lands on the table

and steals a lemony crumb

from your empty plate.

Doves coo from the power line above.

The scene is picturesque,

like a cliche, sappy film that nobody wants to see.

As we say goodbye

you hug me tight,

the side of your head pressed

against the center of my chest.

The chemical release fills my body

like a drug, tingling my nerves.

I do not want to let go.

My alarm goes off,

reality sets in.

My chest sinks like a convict

thrown to the sharks.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s