Many years ago when I was just a teen at college, I fell for a girl called Alison. She was pretty with curly hair, braces and blue eyes. I was awkward shy (I probably still am) but she seemed to like me. I walked her home one time and she invited me in for a glass of squash before I cycled back to my parents. Something I always wonder, when it went wonky after that peak of hopefulness, was it me projecting or was there really a potential friendship or more.. the heartache was palpable, but so was the briefest joy. Some other force intervened I seem to recall. A misunderstanding. I never got the chance to explain. Somewhere deep inside this poem is that story and a face I will never quite forget. A not Juliet.

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A Jinjagoliath poem:
29th August 2023
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*Placed 5th*
Contest: Star-Crossed Lovers Poetry
Sponsored by: Robert James Liguori
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