at the yard sale she found another love letter
pressed and hidden between the pages of an old paperback
another story far better than hers
Deeply hidden yet most intimately present

that solemn morning coffee.she noted that no one noticed she changed her hair.

sitting across from the man whom she fears will be it for her
as he sips the dark French roast and
attempts to do the New York Times Crossword in pen
never acknowledging he lacks the intellect to get it right
her innocence is lost and
so is her good judgment

Her mind wanders; silently whispering to her:
'how sweet it would be to swing the doors open
to this house that is not good enough for you
and greet the chilled morning air and embrace
a new start, a new love, a new beginning…'

the crackling of the paper being tossed aside
set her back into reality
4 down; “Milieu of the stressed out”
she knows the answer and debates to tell him

but it may reveal far too much about her for his comfort. and perhaps for her as well.

As the endless seconds turned
to everlasting minutes
He placed his dirty cup in the sink
And went on with his daily routine

“Ragged Edge” she revealed aloud enough for him to hear and to ignore her.

Sipping that damn morning coffee
she decided to write on the next page of the paperback
Hoping to spare the next soul who falls for love letters
to take the only advice she can muster

Never trust a man with two first names.

11/11/2008

Author's Note: Ragged Edge-precariously close to loss of self-control, mental stability, etc.

Posted on 11/11/2008
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