Addresses,
one by one,
fill my day.
156 South Street,
17 Riddle Road,
84 Arkansas Avenue.

Red light.
Green light,
keep going...

Each stop I step out
like it’s my own home,
cradling a box in my arms:
a present for my lady.
But the door opens,
and a stranger stares back.
Unfamiliar eyes, but
the same color as the ones that
are trapped in my past.

I smile,
she signs,
I leave.

The truck is full today.
Hearts hand-drawn on brown packaging,
with red ribbons and bouncy bows.
I can forget if I keep my eyes on the road.
But the roses reek,
wrapping their fragrance
around me like a noose.

Forced
to play Cupid.
I drive on...