9:17
At nine-seventeen p.m, my whole world stopped.
Distincely I remember this because
through tear-bleared eyes, I saw the numbers
lit in green -
9:17 -
on the face of my microwave next to the door.
Next to that same door
through which you exited
so hastily,
so heartlessly,
so unexpectedly
with not even a kiss good-bye. . .
though I guess that would have made it even worse.
I’d rather think of our last kiss
as we lay at night in bed
when I believed you cared,
when unbridled passion
and bliss
still ruled my heart.
Years pass, and I’ve not found
another man to take the place of you.
Once in a great while, late at night,
I go into my kitchen, perhaps to brew some tea,
and on the microwave
those numbers from the day you left
assault my eyes,
lit in green -
9:17 -
be cursed!
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2018
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