on tuesday it was the barista
at the coffee shop across from the hotel.
she smiled at me and I pictured it
in a different context. I fell in love
with the way her smile reflected
in the bathroom mirror five years from now.
it is not you, it is not your fault
that I have a wandering heart.
on wednesday it was a stranger
who stood next to me on the corner
of east 100th street, across from the 7-11
and the abandoned movie rental shop.
She smelled like lilacs and her lips
were a delicate shade of bubblegum
that reminded me of 90’s movies and
pop music and later that night I couldn’t
stop humming that song my mother
used to love - all I wanna do is make love to you.
I’m the stray you never should have brought inside.
I’m sorry that distance dilutes my love, I’m sorry
there’s something so hungry in me that I find myself
licking my lips at the sight of another fix.