You were cigarette smoke and breaking waves on the shores of distant lands. You were crooked teeth and chocolate breath. You were black coffee and shaggy hair. You were hazel eyes and arms I would have died in. You were soft cotton shirts and ***** work boots. You were Bukowski’s good side. You were pool tables and wool hats. You were black curtains. You were everything and more. You were the one that got away. You were.