Matthew Caretti

When Fiction Becomes Fact

From an old lesson plan:

Love is abstract; a kiss concrete.

From a workshop:

Telling is "I miss her."

Showing is "Her lips moist over the teacup, steam rising to her eyes.To kiss those lips, pure fantasy. To have her love, the be-all of my being. That was long ago. But I remember this scene each morning at 11:11. Wish it again into existence."

From my life:

lovers' initials
in the old sidewalk
chipping away