Tunnel of Love by Lori Field | Website | Facebook | Tumblr
The Laundromat LullabyBetween us—thirty years, dirty laundry, and the sneaking suspicion
that we’ve done this all before. You have always believed in ghosts,
I half-believe in magic, and the puckered dimples of your scars
map a kingdom I swear I used to know like I built it all myself.
Karma is a funny word, we roll our eyes when they say fate—
and still I can’t shake your shadows from the tip of my tongue.
There is merit in the theory of other worlds. Timelines dedicated
to the dissection of timelines. There are ways in which I’ve known
you before I knew myself, every crater in my conscience a perfect
match for yours—and still, sometimes, you are a sharp turn on
a dark road with the headlights off. I am the stillness before
impact, parallel catastrophe either way it pans out. Our love is a
song on a stranger’s radio with half the words misheard. Each
moment is an exercise in remembering the tune.
Megan Mauro is a student at Arcadia University, an aspiring poet, and a writer since birth. She can often be found hiking mountains, catching fireflies, and consuming obscene amounts of coffee. She can, and will, physically fight you over the Oxford comma.