NaPoWriMo 2016 – Day Seven


First Date

I should have read the signs.

There were plenty of them, after all.
Omens lining up, shouting “pick me, pick me!” –
desperate to be the one which showed me the way.
I ignored them all.

I cooked, or started to.
A dinner full of love, and far too much salt –
three stock-cubes too much for any shepherd’s pie.

Determined to save the night, we went out
onto rain-sodden streets, hunting safer options.
“You cannot go wrong with Italian.”
We did.

The butterflies in my stomach battled
with over-garlicked roast potatoes,
as I forced down carbs to soak up the wine.

The tragic icing on a miserable cake –
news of a friend’s death, a text message,
checked as you gentlemanly paid the bill.

You walked me home, tears streaming;
I couldn’t face the joy of a goodnight kiss.

Instead, a hug:
more “farewell” than “let’s do this again.”

I should have read the signs.


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