Ending

 Happy Ending

So, the jeans no longer fit, there are

far worse things that could happen.

Like lingering.

Like never feeling so full that you get

to complain about the extra bulge.

So, you were her in your twenties.

You were also wanting, you were also lost.

A stray on the street listening for a whistle.

A shallow, little pool on a crowded shore,

waiting for a wave to fill you up.

Oh, to be named, or claimed, or taken.

Please.

Of course, the dress is now too tight,

you've become the whole damn ocean.

Of course, you aren't being called inside,

you own the house.

~L.E. Bowman