I should have known it the minute I saw them
When she walked in wearing red shoes
She was there to take you from me
Your attention
Your smiles
Even your potshots.
That night in our hotel
She was still in your head.
The next day
When I rode away from you on my bike
It wasn’t the rain or the contrary hills
Your misguided sense of direction
(In the end I was right).
Remorseful.
Lost.
There were a thousand directions you could have taken.
Maybe an hour I leaned against that wall
Hoping it would be this one
Watching for your billowing blue jacket
Your bike churning over the viaduct.
Then,
Holding each other
Not letting go
I was stupid.
No it was my fault.
We both knew
It was the red shoes.
We never made it to that stone circle.