What about Bourbon Street?
did you find out that you can’t drink pop with breakfast in a soda town?
do you find that words escape you when you come into my home
uninvited and unannounced in all your colors to find me
when you weren’t looking
with nothing to say?
so i’ll stand here holding open the door
i won’t remember to breathe
but i will remember not to say things that aren’t true
just to say anything at all to you.
and i won’t try anymore
to figure out what you aren’t saying
the only thing clear
is that your business here
is not with me anymore
whatever it was
we left it on Bourbon Street
when it was drink or leave
and do or die
your silence quieted with one act
that said more than words could ever convey
in the unexpected sweeping gesture nature of it,
the fate of our next three days
was sealed with that kiss
that could have been everything
but i wasn’t her
so it was never enough
and we left it there
with my beads and your smirk
under a street lamp
on a crowded Bourbon Street
Beth Mulcahy (she/her) is a Pushcart Prize-nominated poet and writer whose work has appeared in various journals, including Full House Literary and Roi Faineant Press. Her writing bridges the gaps between generations and self, hurt and healing. Beth lives in Ohio with her husband and two children and works for a company that provides technology to people without natural speech. Her latest publications can be found here: https://linktr.ee/mulcahea.