my breath reeks of nostalgia and gin
while i wait for you at the bar

my old lover
my one desire
my almost, it seems

the bartender half listens to the
slurred tales of our dances together

that we never could seem to get right

but there are no sparks nor dread
when i think of us anymore

just a bittersweet aftertaste and...
a tugging desire for one more chance with you

06.19.22