The prodigal girlfriend

We stood on a certain hill

As the wind whipped at our faces

Snot dripping down your nose

Splattering on your leather jacket

As I confessed my love for you

Finally

Again

The prodigal girlfriend

Not accepted

Yet not rejected

Hope dangling on a red string

Me waiting below it

Willing it to hold strong

Respecting that I can’t touch it

Yet still dancing above it

The sun and the moon

A pair of spoons

Traveling together

With so many places to go

You said you couldn’t make any promises

And I can accept that

But you say we’ll go to an island again

And that string began to strengthen

My heart at one end of it bleeding for you

It deserves to for making you wait so long

Now it’s my turn for stomach pains

As I wonder throughout the day

Am I the woman for who he dreams of at night

While he lays in another’s arms?

And will I ever know how it feels to be both again?

So here I wait.

Waiting.

Until the trail breaks the string

Or transforms it to rope.

Here I wait, waiting

With this red string of hope.

CLR 3/2020