we kept bumping
into each other
no matter where we turned
there we were
matching shoes, same smiles
fed on words
wired for love
wired for pain
The only thing worse than a play date with moms that you don’t like is a play date with moms you don’t like when all you want to do is be at home drinking a cup of African red bush tea eating a blueberry scone and talking to your best friend on the phone.
The chitter chatter here makes my ears ring. Burn. Long for you even more than I already do.
I keep eating chips to drown out the noise. Keep looking at the time. Keep checking my phone. Keep making excuses to take my daughter outside for fresh air or to write these words while I pretend to watch my son throw the tennis ball for the old, crippled dog.
We need to create an app for time travel and translocation.