What a thing it is, to be a thing that is wanted.

Polite kisses, not enough

to smudge my lipstick.

A younger man with thin lips

and a leather jacket.

“Are you cold? You can have it. “

There’s enough romance

in the city center at night,

That it even gets under the

skin of a guy who grew up here.

There’s enough moonlight to go around.

Enough street lamps to lean under.

“Are you a boy, or are you a man?”

“I’m not sure, what’s the difference?”

“Well, what do you value?”

“Absolute honesty, even when it hurts.”

“Well, I can’t tell you the precise difference. But one is that a man has an answer to that question.”

“Can I sit closer to you?”

And in the morning he calls me,

Texts me.

What a thing it is,

To be a thing that is wanted.