Six Months Later

"Your lips are like clouds," he said.

In that sexy fucking accent.

I always had a weakness for englishmen.

He thought we could win big,

And spend the night together.

But we didn't win at the tables,

And got politely escorted away.

We're still here, six months later.

He's still dating that girl.

I'm still mad about him.

Or just mad.

He likes me too.

I'm sure of it.

Doesn't he?

Doesn't

He