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Mar 2016
It was out of the blue.
Really why would he talk to me.
I am pleasantly plump.
size fourteen if I lie.
my hair is wild
and terminal frizzy.
he has a cut glass
English accent.
like a BBC newscaster.
I am from the Bronx.
we drank too much wine.
he took me home to my place.
I had to pay for the cab.
But it's not like paying for him
to...well...you know.
I could not walk the next morning.
he told me I was Beautiful and
the best time he had had in America.
me can you believe that.
He was a botanist from the UK
working on the nesting habits
of the speckle throated warbler
or something.
All I knew was he had ice blue eyes
a sweet accent and grey specks
in his blueness that made me
want to undress for him.
He was beautiful.
when he left in the morning
I gave him my number
on his phone.
call me I said.
but months went by.
not a word.
then when the morning
sickness came.
I realised he was still inside me.

The eclampsia came at seven months
I was hospitalised the doctors told me
I and the baby could die.
I went into a coma.

when. woke up my belly was flat
the baby I cried.
I opened my eyes and he was there.
holding my hand.
my baby I wept
they are fine Kelly
he said.
they?
you had twins a boy and a girl.
I looked up into his eyes
with the grey fleck's.
Micheal how?
I was sent back to the UK
I lost my job at the university.
I tried to call you
but no answer.
I came back on a visitors visa.
your neighbor told
me you were here.

six months later

we went for a Sunday evening
stroll in central park
it was fall the trees
were red and amber
leaves of gold
russeled under our feet.
new York was grey in fading light.
A city that hadwitnessed
many such love stories.
I looked at Micheal
his beautiful eyes
that held some kind
of optical aberration.
For they saw me as
worthy of his love.
He lifted the twins
over his head.
they laughed in delight.
I never seen anyone
as happy as him.
Unless you
count me in that is.
He said I love my family Kelly.
I whispered I love you Micheal.
Then at that moment
in the urban forrest of Cental park
on a vermillian autumn evening.
I felt him walk into
the door in my heart
that I left opened or him.
As he entered
I closed it quickly
so he could never leave.
locking it with the only key
that existed.
Then throwing it into the brambled
undergrowth of the woodlands
never to found again.
Written by
Jude kyrie  Canada
(Canada)   
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