What Could Have Been

What Could Have Been

The fresh ink on your arm was the first sign
Ending by the new hog you now straddle.
I should have seen it sooner:
“What’s a girl like you doing in place like this?”
Actually, it was me, misplaced,
At the dive bar up the street.

You entered my world unexpectedly in a New York coat and knee-high leather boots,
Me, woken up by the door knock, caught in shorts and a t-shirt.
I was at a loss of words, embarrassed.
You, wondering what you had walked into.

“Damn, son, don’t you know this introduction would lead to nowhere?
It was the liquor talking to you.”

I got the news third hand – Facebook is a heartless tool.
“In a relationship,” it said.
The hare beat the turtle by a mile.
Flower emojis are irrelevant.

I have more than a memory of you
Longings unfulfilled
The images of you caught in unsuspecting moments
One in particular,
Of you on the floor sitting like a mermaid wearing a thin PJ bottom and a ripped t-shirt
In front of a large ornate mirror doing your hair – was it for me?
What could have been won’t be.