i remember
sitting on the curb,
sipping a venti café latte,
and pulled
the last cigarette out
of my patched-up
leather jacket,

i waited on you,
but it rained

my hand upon
my head, i placed
and ran fast
to the side street
near the crossroads,

the rain pummeled
the concretes,
crackles of thunder
at the distance,

i was
on my way home,
i supposed,
but i missed
the taxicab,

i remember
sitting on the curb,
soaking wet
in the rain,
tried to light up
the last cigarette,
and the coffee
gone cold,

i waited on you,
but you never came