Thursday, September 20, 2012
I remember that Friday night,
as I drove in circles, wasting rental gas,
and obsessively checking my watch.
Three hours from DC to San Antonio
plus the 5 months since you said goodbye.
I never told you how I cried and tried
to hate you, because when I saw you walk
through security 147 days dissolved,
like a sugar cube on my tongue.
And I remember Saturday night too,
after 18 holes, a delicate petite syrah
and two of the best damn steaks in Texas,
we laughed, drank XO and smoked Cohibas.
When you excused yourself for a moment,
every last man watched you catwalk out,
and then turned to me and said
“boy you’re one lucky sombitch”
I just gave them a nod and a smile,
because they had no idea how lucky I was.
*(Re-print from "Another Hotel Room")