Pal Poetry

Her name was Laura

We met at an open mic night

I adored her singing while on the keyboard

I wish I remembered the song she sang

Watch it pop in my head randomly

Memory is funny that way

We block out or keep both the good and bad

My mind is a jumbled mess of love notes

Laura was my third true love

We never made it beyond first base

But we smashed it out the park in so many other ways

I will never forget the time she brought soup to my job

Nothing like eating chicken tortilla soup atop a city scaffold

It was pretty warm that day too

Breakfast at that little diner in midtown

It is not even there anymore

I felt the stares of the sistaz as we walked down the kc streets

I loved the contrast of my mohagany next to her pale milky skin

I still have a collection of photos

I had a bad habit of binge watching those sky blue eyes

Last time I looked her up on social

She was with some regular looking dude

I can’t really hate 

Cause I’m just another regular lookin’ dude who happens to be 6’2”

So what happened

She warned me that she had already dated a guy before with Fee fi FO kids

That was an omen

If only I had not gotten caught back a second time in the web of my former wife

Who knows where I would be

Because our poetry back and forth

Was something special

You were a much better writer

Yet we complimented each other well

Staring deep down the windows of our souls

Bringing out the best parts of me

Parts I did not know existed

It is amazing how you can write to someone you are attracted to

But the words do not go erotic

There was a purity to it

And the pauses in-between gave us time to think

Way better than talking on the phone

I saw her one day on Broadway 

Randomly riding in boots with the fur

That is what she called her black jeep

I forgot the story behind that ride

I do not think she saw me

Oh well

Thank you

You set the standard for whoever becomes my next

Pal Poetry

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