Shock After Years

Written for:  Go Dog Go Café – Tuesday Writing Prompt Challenge
Write something that ends with the phrase, “she tasted like memory.”

Is that her? Oh no,
heartache, heartache
for more years
than I would like
to recall. She
had it all, an idol
in my eyes. I never
was able to extricate
myself from her. I am
sure she is married.
I am not. No woman
could ever compete.
Now I see her
on the street,
and believe my eyes
have conjured her up.
We come face to face.
Had to stop, do all
the usuals ‘you
haven’t changed
a bit’, but we knew
ourselves for liars.
As we parted, I
chastely kissed
her cheek. Her skin
tasted like a memory.

About purplepeninportland

I am a freelance poet, born and bred in Brooklyn, New York. I live with my husband, John, and two charming rescue dogs–Marion Miller and Murphy. We spent eight lovely years in Portland, OR, but are now back in New York. My goal is to create and share poetry with others who write, or simply enjoy reading poetry. I hope to touch a nerve in you, and feel your sparks as well.
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2 Responses to Shock After Years

  1. Kathleen says:

    I loved this. It is so on point for those of us of a certain age!


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