Eleven Likes

Eleven likes before I got there.

I counted—that's the tell.

I knew which four of those eleven

also didn't go, and I fell

into the math before I could stop it.

Not sad. More like a tax

you forgot you owed. The photo:

a dock, flat water, facts

about a weekend I wasn't part of.

My thumb above the heart, not pressing.

The weight of not pressing. I closed the app.

Opened it. There's no blessing

in the second look, just confirmation.

The four. The eleven. The dock.

The arm around someone. The afternoon.

My thumb. The clock.