It's a loneliness
of passion that makes me
want you tonight, at twoAM --
or the breaking
of dawn-- cracking
the proverbial egg
of the morning with you over
tea, toast, and your temperament.

It's funny how my legs don't work
like they used to,
and their smile is all
but a glimmer of some instant trapped
in the backseat of your car.
With just enough legroom
for 2.

I've never done this
before. I've never
done this
before.