One for the Road

Carina Munoz, Student Writer

Your kiss tasted like chocolate cake and apologies

Your lips sent shocks through my veins like desert nights

You unapologetically  apologized over and over and over again


The color of your white sweater radiated through the dark of this rainy night

Your head hung in between your broad shoulders

All we knew at this moment was silence, and the sound of pitter-pattering rain

I felt a tightness in my stomach as I said, ‘No, we, we can’t do this anymore.”

You tightened your fists and looked straight out at a passing car’s headlights beaming through the street ahead of us, then looked down


What the hell is wrong with me

This two-year belly laugh now fading into this caliginous night and I was to blame

This, us, our entire relationship almost seemed to flash by like on of these cars

Blinding bright at first then slowly disappearing into the clouded darkness of the unknown

Your life was a mess

But to me you were broken poetry

You didn’t know what else to do so you kissed me

I imagined this is what a person feels like when they pull a trigger to a gun to find that the cartridge is empty

Last week I sat on that porch again

I closed my eyes and I could have sworn I felt your heavy hand touch my thigh

For some reason I can still feel you here

How can it be that I am being haunted by the ghost of someone still alive?