Reid@YWP

Salty.

I lick my lips, trying to clean my face. Then I remember, I am not a cat. I lift my hand to my eyes to dry the tears the old fashioned way. They are cold. I am holding hands with myself. 

How did we get here?  
With a man who lies  
and stirs the storm,  
who turns hate into headlines  
and power into a joke.

maybe one day i'll see you

at a class reunion 20 years in the future

you'll have gotten taller than i am in heels

your hair will no longer be curled and bleached but

The click, click, click of a camera draws his attention. 

The fire dances with the trees, 

With no stopping, it spreads.

A horrific sight, indeed.

In the wake of this inferno, 

If I had to say goodbye 
I wouldn't know what to say 

Would I embrace you 
Like we used to 
Or is the tension in the air pulling us away from that