I went to the spot

—stood there—

trying to remember why

I vowed never to return.

 

It had been so dark in my memory,

musty and in my lungs like pneumonia.

I never thought the room would be

sweet tasting ever again.

 

But standing there,

where it happened,

I knew it wasn’t the place

it was you.

---

Viannah E. Duncan writes primarily poetry, creative nonfiction, and critical reviews. She holds an MFA in Creative Writing and lives in the Baltimore area with her cantankerous cat Cleopatra. For more, please visit: http://www.duncanheights.com. Connect with her on Twitter: @veduncan