some things just stick in the mind: dates, faces, names and places; colors of eyes and sounds of voices. twenty-eight years ago tonight, my girlfriend told me she thought she was pregnant. we were parked on a dark homeless street on the fringe of someone else’s brand-new neighborhood. we were there for making out (my agenda, not hers). she stopped my roving hand, told me what she thought. i said, no, you can’t be. as though i could somehow know better than she what to her had become manifest. i said, come on, let’s make out. as though that would make everything better.
some things just stick in the mind: a child’s birthday, a lover’s smile, a given name; a darkened street; green eyes. how each person sighs in a different way.
(Copyright 2023 by Tetman Callis.)