A Spoonful of Sugar

a spoonful of sugar, she says

in an instagram post, a tarot reading.

i agree, nodding, a little thrilled,

but fearful of sneaking past your apartment

on this wednesday afternoon

when I know I should stay put.

do you remember the last time?

and would you reconsider my hands

sliding down the sides of your waist

as if we were the perfect pair again?

or should we say all this is lost?

i stopped, stalled, cold-hearted, breathless

in the middle of the dark-paved

asphalt parking lot of the grocery store

where you said we might text

but I couldn't and you would not.

and your friends always hated me

anyway, i say, swallowing hard

a spoonful of sugar forcing the bitters

to go down slightly smoother

and with more grace than they should.