A worry pokes the back of my brain, an inescapable anxiety that I wasted my best years on the ex-hole.

But through the storm everything stands still and I remember when.

Excuse me? I’ve been called a lot of names over the course of my forty years. But the words Christmas hussy have never been uttered.

I recognize him right away, his dark hair sprinkled with gray a perfect match to his profile picture. Which is a relief. Lots of guys post pictures from a decade ago, thirty pounds ago, or a couple of ex-wives ago. As if nobody would notice.

The beauty of the world is the music it creates.

From my right comes a deep voice. A man voice. It startles me and I turn to see someone who would earn a lot of swipe-rights.

Once upon a time and happily ever after graced the corridors of my consciousness, but not anymore. Now my psyche cries get through the day and don’t commit homicide.

A new spring is about to startTen lost winters have weathered my heartAnd mud-larks still sing until dark Bridges of dreams were crossedThe ocean and river spannedWaters of love found Our true love ran deepCascading over hidden rocksAnd sharp stones were softened by sand The winds of time shreddedOur threadbare sailsAnd replaced the canvas sheetsWith ...

But everyone knows, There’s no rainbow without a storm.

Crash into me in tidal waves Rush up hemlines of receding shore Tempest fingers in remnants of history Deposited sands of time;  Expose metal detector mysteries: Barbed wire and shrapnel Wrapped around bones Featured Image by Velizar Ivanov on Unsplash