outsest

That single mother
not the one who raised me.

The one I have been secretly in love with
since the hight of my adolescence, 15
Since the night of the only school dance i ever attended
were the former single mother mentioned
drove the later home
because she made it there with out a way to get home
on a whim, with out a plan
little did i know
staring back at her threw the mirror the whole ride
that would be "just like her"

That single mother
after eight years of a desperate want,
six years of exponentially intimate texts
compliments thrown back and forth, passed time zones,
two years of when, when
please tell make it now,
four months of putting it off
fear of a climax, an outcome, an answer,
and one night at a party
of deep gazes, light touches,
and a light headiness that
vertigo cant ever compete with

That single mother
is my valentine this year