By Torrence R. O’Haire
(he was also) too young for
love, she spent her
afternoons on the crowded
streets of West L.A.
dancing (with him – she was better)
in the evening and the requisite gossip
involved, (her friends liked him too)
but alas, she now lives too far from
the waves, (it was the best we could do)
out where the sun meets the cold concrete
three months in – and still walks in a
(he used to love when she wore)
midriff top(s) which she will
soon outgrow (but he forgets to look sometimes)
how strange it is to see a little girl making
dinner for her husband
(he forgets to thank her – remembers later, but alas),
who now works late hours
(and is too tired to go dancing)
they still make love
sometimes, yet (he) does not
catch her eyes (he looks away)
licks her cheek (it means “thank you.” Please understand.)
she looks past him
and does (tries) not (to) notice how
it tastes of salt
(he will not lift his eyes.
(S)he will not lift his eyes.)
(It means “I’m sorry.” Please understand.)
*Author’s bio: Torrence R. O’Haire is a Grand Rapids, Michigan, local. A successful playwright, he studied linguistics at Grand Valley State University and currently resides in West Michigan, where he teaches theatre and dance.
