HomeSouthern VoiceWaterford Lakes

Waterford Lakes

by Anna Keeler

She liked to shop at Waterford Lakes
Spending hours lost in the aisles of clothes
And mazes of books,
Buying cherub statues she didn’t need from Kirkland
and filling her pores with body sprays and her wrists useless chachkis

She’d play catch with you in the carpeted rows of the sporting goods store
And tease you as you fell off of the stair climber
But made you promise not to laugh
When she spent every cent in her pocket on
Rapunzel dolls and glittered sticks
That she’d peel off the sheets and dust your cheeks with.

She’d sip from her coffee
While letting her eyes trail along the
Pink and gold and blue shades of the sunset,
The wind pulsing along her soft hair
While she swore up and down that she
Could see the strums of Ed Sheeran
In the curves of clouds and stagnant air.

You’d stare down at your hands while she spoke,
seeing the traces of purple dye and espresso and ink
Running down your free hand
While the other grasped for hers.

Because the longer the heat lingered between your palms
The more you heard the notes in the sky and could feel
The movie endings in the sunset,
And before long, other people’s conversations and
Burning beige buildings faded into the crème colored pallet
That brings her so much peace; and becomes
the fairy tale for you that it
Always was for her.


Anna Keeler is a poet and fiction writer living in Winter Park, Florida. Her work has been published or is upcoming with, Cleaver Magazine, Vending Machine Press, The Writing Disorder, The Yellow Chair Review and more.

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