Going Home

Yesterday curved like a woman’s hips.
I tumbled with the decline. Purposely.
I was a fool for getting too close
To the edge where friendliness
And awkwardness intersect.
I blame myself for misfortune’s soft slap
On the cheek–where I had hoped
A kiss would have been placed instead.
Loneliness is winter’s wind bursting
Through the trees and pushing me along.
There’s nowhere else left to go but home.

Copyright 2013
A. J. Hayes
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