I wait for you awhile in
coming autumn smoking
a remaining third or half a cigarette
underneath amber streetlamp flowers
blooming out of tune around me.
I have been quitting in fragments.
With secrets in my pockets
no one would be interested in anyhow
and my heart dressed in a three piece suit
for you
my intentions pop corks
of champagne bottles loud
enough to wake the neighbors
Either too crass
or too subtle and I can never
tell the difference
between the accumulation
and dissipation of stars.
But either way, tonight they are
suspended in anticipation
of whose bed I end up in.
Either way, their light
may as well be you
blushing.
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