I often think our virtual romance
was like the classic movie ‘Brief Encounter;’
two people who connected, though not free,
pretending we were friends to salve our conscience.
Desperate not to hurt our loves, we ended
and hurt each other. Celia Johnson stoic
I smile at home and only cry in verse.
Brief, but no encounter, furtive kisses
or stalwart gentleman with smooth-pressed cloth
to wipe the grit from red and streaming eye.
First published in Reach
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