You Are Here

You are here, at the cusp of adulthood, the key is in your hand for 21C Autumn Lodge.
He is there, teetering on the edge of maturity in an adult body, a coffee in hand, a dog by his side and the world on his tongue.
For the love category of the Christmas Competition 2017

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8. Stop

 

Stop.

Right there.

Freeze the moment

That just happened.

She approaches,

The girl

Where you only caught a glimpse in the coffee shop,

Of the catalyst

She embodied.

 

She approaches

The desk 

With a halfway smile,

Too right feet

And a book you didn’t recognise,

Which was a feat.

 

“Hey,”

This is where your voice sounds

Higher than it should.

Hair wind danced

And cheeks flushed

Bitter with cold,

She looks like a snow child

Dressed to be on a stage.

 

“Do you have a library card?”

you ask,

Because it was the prescribed pill.

 

“I would definitely like one,”

She smiles,

Teeth barely showing

Out of air cold lips.

 

You go about the motions,

That your hands beg to follow.

Although the battle

To reach the snow child

Rings something sharp

yet sweet.

 

“Oh, you live in Autumn Lodge,”

You remark as she says the address

And then you cringe

Because you sound

Like a stalker

With unrestrained creep.

She smiles,

Words

Not stringing

Together just yet.

But then she forms

A yes in between her lips.

 

“So do I, 21B.”

The smile comes again

Like a lighting strike

On a summer's day

And rain coming to soothe.

 

You and she are neighbours,

and you have to stop a smile

from splitting cheeks

flushed with something that wasn't the cold.

 

It may have been winter

But your heart is melting

In a storm,

Not freezing

Under snow.

 

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