I was at my most romantic with her;
A perfect gentleman
Bringing her roses on Tuesday while she shelved books in the 700s.
I gave her a black hat in the cemetery
As the snow collected in her hair.
She danced naked to Aretha Franklin
As my brown eyes watched hers, hazel.
We snuggled by the fire
Drinking Merlot and eating Brie,
Watching scary movies to have an excuse to cuddle in our arms.
We ran away to Florida in search of Dali.
She read Poe and Sexton as the road hypnotized me.
In my mind,
Her lips touched mine,
Then her memory fades.
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Audrie is a writer and editor living in Illinois. She is a fan of all things horror and pop culture.