The Orchid On The Floor

The door slams, I dare not turn
I need not move.
I stand as still as the wind
And the memories flood back.

Our first encounter,
The feel of his hand on mine.
The sound of his amused laughter,
The look in his pained eyes and the
Reflection of me in them.

And the girl in the mirror
Had turned into someone else
As I stand and stare at his gift
The beautiful orchid on the floor
That should have been a rose.

by Mabel Akena

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