Love is a Food?

crying over a simple email 

the lasts build a lump in my throat 

last time beaming onstage 

signing yearbooks 

wearing a stiff blue skirt 

One girl’s lanky frame against the dark turf field,

lit up by fluorescent lights 

She saunters toward the building 

holding another girl’s hand

The screen stares back at me: 

9:30 pm, 

an unfinished assignment, 

a deadline due. 

My weary chest heaves a heavy breath.