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Soaped and watered
away, hair neatly combed,
makeup completely gone,
Trey takes me [and a whole
lot of crystal] back to my car.
He kisses me one more time.
Careful driving home. It’s pretty
late. The cops will be on the prowl.
He guides me into my c
ar.
I’ll be in touch soon, okay?
I look up into his eyes, hoping
to find honesty. But I realize
I’m not completely sure what
honesty is. Not honesty between
a guy and a girl, anyway. “Okay.”
I drive home, thinking about
honesty. I drive home, thinking
about possibilities. I drive home,
thinking about rediscovery. I drive
home, sifting thoughts of Trey.
Always, in the Past
I’ve measured the seasons by holidays,
how we spend them. This year, so close
on the heels of the birthday/baptism
fiasco, and with Hunter still too young
to care, Halloween was a non-event.
We stayed home, no trick-or-treaters
in sight. Never are up here on the hill.
Still, Mom always
