He collected only their most sumptuous fortune cookie citations referencing soul mates kindred spirits & true love ambitions long after the vague envy of the hostess once guided them back to the table for two his sad inability to reassure his date’s safety limited his appeal to only transitory rescue eventually causing her to go elsewhere when security meant much more than a second key or a retriever at the foot of the mattress when he thought closing his eyes meant he still could see for the delicate reminders of compass passion & divining-rod amour including the dream catcher & letter collection could not revive what he could not restore so in the ensuing era he reluctantly ceased reviewing each photo finish when the fog of restless sleep offered better versions of what would surely diminish yet on certain nights when the thunder rumbles its contradictory clamor to cleanse and recall he finds strange solace, knowing someday someone must carry away those artifacts of his desire & his fall.
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No heart for this one, because it's dark. Very good, though, so it would def be a thumbs up. Or a gasp. Or a sigh. Or a wistful nod. But the heart... no. The heart heaves at this.
The cookie crushed
It's contents unfold
The message reveals
A future untold
Of joys - awaiting
And love to be found
And hope is renewed
On that hallowed ground.
And love steps afresh
On fields and flowers
Hearts are soaring
By minutes and hours
'Tween the work
And the weekend
When lovers entwine
And hearts wend.
Then, slowly, it happens
A misstep or two
A missed understanding
Where suspicions grew
Wine soured slowly
In midday sun
The feast left to rotting
And love
was
undone.
The Fortune
By Annie Houston
July 7, 2025