On Ex-Lovers and Insecurities

Sometimes I hear, or pretend I do,
The lilt in your voice
When you talk about all your past lives.

I wonder, of all the people in the world,
Why your heart calls mine home.

Snapshots –

Your hand twisting around mine
In the darkness of our wrinkled sheets –
You say you don’t mind my sweaty palms.

We drive for hours,
Your hand on my leg as I shift into second gear;
Tonight we’ll watch the stars from the tailgate.

Cheeks ruddy with the cold of a New England winter –
Snowball fights and warm soup and the firelight to warm our souls.

Boxes littering the entryway
Of our second floor walkup
In a city with too many sleepless nights.

Our life together –
These shot glass, seashell, snow globe collections.
Photographs in a kaleidoscope of seasons.

Do you prefer Elizabeth after your grandmother?
What about Samuel for a boy?
Should we get married in the fall or the spring?

And yet –

If she left him,
Called your name across the miles,
Told you she still loved you.

Would you disappear from our bed one winter night?
Forget all the reasons you’ve ever made me laugh
And learn to delight in her smile again?

Hold her close, call her baby;
Like all the back road curves and train rides and changing seasons of our lives were insignificant –
Tell me you loved me once.

By Sadie Leigh

Biography:

Sadie Leigh is a new and emerging poet who has never published their work on-line or in print before. They hail from a cold and snowy state and they are perpetually cold even in warm climates. They enjoy warm cups of coffee on rainy mornings, the smell of new books, and almost all small animals.