He didn’t mean it, really. He didn’t.
We were just talking by the bleachers,
and I knew it was wrong, but I couldn’t say anything.
Who says something at a time like that?
It wasn’t the same,
as our chats and texts,
he was on me. His eyes were right on me.
Foamy breath
and rough wrapped fingers,
bruised my left biscuit.
He felt really bad. Really.
He is such a good guy,
we held hands and prayed after.
Author Bio:
Erica Seiler manages the brand for a Fortune 500 company where she teaches writers how to master tone-of-voice and messaging. She is pursuing an MA in Creative Writing at Our Lady of the Lake University in San Antonio, TX and has published work in advertising and journalism.
We were just talking by the bleachers,
and I knew it was wrong, but I couldn’t say anything.
Who says something at a time like that?
It wasn’t the same,
as our chats and texts,
he was on me. His eyes were right on me.
Foamy breath
and rough wrapped fingers,
bruised my left biscuit.
He felt really bad. Really.
He is such a good guy,
we held hands and prayed after.
Author Bio:
Erica Seiler manages the brand for a Fortune 500 company where she teaches writers how to master tone-of-voice and messaging. She is pursuing an MA in Creative Writing at Our Lady of the Lake University in San Antonio, TX and has published work in advertising and journalism.
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