One More Night (poem)

One More Night


It’s white wine tonight

just as much as you had

the same glass (or three)

the night we met.


It could’ve been mutiny

the way we felt for each other

sitting by the bar

watching beauty grind each other

on the dance floor.


But I didn’t care,

didn’t expect the world to care

how we felt about each other

watching the mess unfold

like the number of drinks taken

by the young Aphrodites.


All but the dances

we made that night,

amidst the rebels who wanted

much more than that.


It’s a wish to meet

someday, somewhere

in the City of Lights

where mutual meets love

and we can fall in love

all over again.

— The Finicky Cynic

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