Standing there aimlessly,
My hands scented nicotine,
Colt legs in new boots,
Then you stepped in.

Could you be him?
The dark, brooding
Heathcliff-Chuck-Bass-Elvis,
The bad boy the good girl in me
Fantasizes, idealizes, romanticizes.

But then you were mistaken,
Wrong way, I was going.
As I mutter a sorry,
You walk out, still
Glancing at me as you wait.

I wouldn't have gotten off and gone
With you, striking a conversation
As we went down.
I wouldn't have made a fool of myself,
some sad romantic comedy character
who inexplicably ends up winning in the end.


Though, part of me wishes I had
That I could be so
Obtuse, Oblivious,
Naive.

Maybe, our paths will cross again,
A chance encounter,
The perfect type,
A match, a ride,
A breathing, real, living
Connection.