In your best midnight voice you said, "Shall we?"
I nodded, leaving my heart
somewhere in orange county
next to his ***** dishes
and overflowed ash tray.

The last time I saw you,
you were a phantom
smeared gray.
I thought I'd change your color,
                 and was ruined the next day.

I don't know the man who waved at me,
but in my head
he's a silver haired Adonis,
Jimmy Stewart in construction garb.

So much more excited about life than he was.
So much more finesse free *******.
So many more smiles.
So little love.
I still hope for you
          when it gets cold.

My cigarettes are surrogate lovers.
Each with their own demands.
Lung cancer,
Birth defects,
Emphysema,
It's our imperfections that make us special.

I am depraved.
He doesn't love me.
I talk like an apple tree that only produces pears.
Sorry, but hopeful.

I live in an age where you can find a man online and delete him from your life before he becomes annoying.
I come from an age where you can dump someone via text message whilst taking a ****.
I am of an era with many pros and even more ex-cons.
I know, I've dated them.