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2:17 a.m. (Macy Portela, Part Two)

Pivoting Right: An Unrequited Love Story, Part XXVIII

By Conrad IlesiaPublished about a year ago 1 min read


We were always an illusion,

Macy, my sweet delusion.

I see it all now.

And oh but how.

Just a few seconds more of

That embrace,

My naked arm around your shoulder,

Looking at each other for one moment


You in your black beanie,

A hint of red creeping out

Beneath the rim,

Me not thinking of her—

You not thinking of him.

Our last real second together.


I would have been satisfied.

I would have been satisfied to continue the charade—

Continue the charade I had constructed,

The fantasy continuing, unobstructed.

(The three of us.)

To us, I was never a threat.

Mace Mace—just the two of us—

Never a regret,

The butt of a joke I should have deducted.


One last question: was that last call for me

Or was the final scene for someone else;

Was all that love for you only for pretending

Or was it just a moment you were lending?

Your twists and your pretzel logic bendings:

Blurred beginnings arise from precise endings.

I just wanted to make it last for one last second—

A moment before the unconditional had conditions


Things you once handled you could no longer handle—

Our one a.m. endings got out of hand.

You broke up the band.


About the Creator

Conrad Ilesia

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CIWritten by Conrad Ilesia

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