The Circus in Me

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The Circus in Me Page 30

by S.M. Bjarnson

Trae Lae’s luggage packed and piled. Mounted on the welcome mat. I waited for her to see me run into my arms and give a comfy kiss. I missed the way her tangled hair smelt like mint and honeysuckle. I wanted so vastly to twirl her about like in the old movies when love was special and easy.

  Long flights bringing me back to this front door. Tapping on it to see if she will open her heart to me again. I wonder where the matters of my spirit have taken her. Do they bring her soaring finding peace among the clouds? Does it vary in size as she lays her head down to sleep at night? I am hopeful of things unseen. Things I want to bring to present and leave all past where it should be.

  I tried to use my words, all coming out in a noiseless matrimony. Wants to inform her of the long journey I’d taken. Not just in Europe’s borders, but the one commenced as I opened up the red leather cover. A witness into a world I always hoped to understand. After finishing the briefs side notes of each tale, I longed for absolution and thusly granted such a whimsical wish.

  Her vision always casted downward a means to avoid eye contact with potential people. I throw my bag on top of hers waiting to see the surprise in her eyes. I longed for her to notice me in a minute and welcome back the man I tried to be for her. Coming back now I hoped she would gladly hold onto the rugged hands of the man I started developing into.

  When she finally took the time to look up all I saw in her expression a mass display of confusion.

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