Blank stares trapped in the rearview mirrors, she’d say.

She’d explain away what people said

behind closed doors with my name on their tongues.

The hope in my heart

I thought was a drought

turned into shouts in the dark

through lips of words I couldn’t rearrange.

Your name was the complacency

that left dust-hazed clouds.

I prayed for your return on Black Friday,

hoping you’d give me a break or a discount.

I caught my breath at the maple

trees.

The tips of the skeletal

branches tipped with white

as snowflakes touch my face,

a light breeze carries with it

a selfish reflection hidden

under my tongue for what I need.

What I wanted to say is;

what my dreams demanded of me.

I love you.

A perfect ball of snow

splattered on my chest.

I looked up; she was sitting in the tree

like we used to do as kids.

Home for good.

By Andy Cooper

Twitter: AC0040