We were all
born too late.
I know this
by the feelings
I get
when
spirit-guides
pass by me.

Yesterday,
I got too old
for my own good.
I sat and I wrote,
I wrote an ode
to my lost lover.
I knew her in a different time,
way back when corsets
ruled the day.
And when men kissed damsels,
they meant it.
If I could only steal her breath
one more time.