Cosmopolitan
I feel so cosmo
drinking a glass of
red wine
in an 18th floor suite.
The city is teeming,
thriving with night life
below me.
But, as usual,
a layer of glass
separates me from it.
I was living tonight!
I felt alive
but I always do with
Him--
He who I pine for
unlike any man before
he who I am as unlikely to have
as the pope a whore.
If I could drink enough of
this wine
maybe my thoughts of
him would go away.
The glass, however,
get emptier and emptier
with every sip.