I PASSED MY EX ON CLAY STREET ON WEDNESDAY MORNING

and a tenderness swept over my skin for the man
who knew my thighs, all fathappy, in younger years.

We were good, ya know, sometimes.
And here he was oblivious to my observation—

for a swift, floating moment—we were alone again:
me watching, he not noticing. The thing

we once had, sinewtorn by vultures, briefly
parted the clouds. He sat in the sun.

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Erica Anderson-Senter

Erica Anderson-Senter writes from Fort Wayne, IN. Her first full length collection of poetry, Midwestern Poet’s Incomplete Guide to Symbolism, was published by EastOver Press in 2021. Her work has also appeared in Midwest Gothic, Dialogist, and One Art. She has her MFA from Bennington College.