“If she called you right now,
how soon would you kick me out
of here and run to her?” I asked.
Without hesitation,
his eyes still closed,
he said, “In a minute.”
We lay there in silence, no lies or hopeful tension
securely wrapped in the arms of strangers
each looking at the night sky over the other’s shoulder
through the frozen windows of a pandemic
me at Taurus the Bull, and you at Cassiopeia.
Neither of us brave enough to stare down Polaris.
“And you?” he asked, arms pulling me tighter.
“In a minute,” I replied, without cruelty.
I pulled the comforter closer around us,
as the minutes passed us, died, and lazily multiplied
as minutes tend to do, sparking as violently and quietly as stars.
Hayley Stoddard began writing at a young age, and has been inspired by such writers as Billy Collins, John Keats, Emily Dickinson, William Wordsworth, Anne Lamott, Mary Oliver, and Leonard Cohen. She has been a guest on the Wild Roof Roundtable podcast, and a guest judge for a 250-word writing competition. Her work has already or will appear in Parley Publishing, Oberon, After the Pause, Wild Roof Journal, Eris+Eros, Drunk Monkeys, Button Eye Review, Beyond Words Magazine, and Eunoia Review.
Latest posts by Hayley Stoddard (see all)
- Two Truths - March 7, 2022