Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Pride Month 2022, Writing

When I Find Her

I’m tired of being perused,
tired of being pursued,
tired of singing the blues.
Kissed the boys and made myself cry,
kissed the girls and made them cry too,
now we’re all back to singing the blues,
back to back with our bad habits.
I leave without leaving a note.
There is no room for goodbyes in my throat,
I just go,
flowing out of the foreground, never to be seen again,
but then, a new awareness is unleashed,
I am unburdened,
unbridled as her soft smiles sails on cool, calm waters,
and I dance in the rain.

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