It was a black dress
and a $12 glass of white wine
that I later beamed to pay for

Sitting at the bar
alone
I got to see you first
I saw you without me
I could not wait
to change that

Tell me
let me tell you
pizza and salad
a conversation
that needed nothing
lingered in moments
and made me love you

Tiramisu and coffee
I should have kissed you
in the stairwell
of that restaurant
basement

“Come home with me?”
“ok.”
the train station
“I can’t.”

“Can I hug you?”
you asked
don’t leave
you left.

a flight back home
away from you
and that hug
and that hope
It was a black dress
a $12 glass of wine
a night
one night
that I was yours
Such short and simple words to hide a long enduring pain
born out of romanticizing
handing your heart
to a perfect stranger

trust me
they’re never perfect