That European wine café –
not merely the decadent destination
of our midnight rendezvous,
but love’s playground of me’s and you’s…
Months after the end of us,
An old yearning made me lust.
If not with you,
Perhaps I could share that velvet loveseat
With my current beau.
Meeting there, as we used to,
A shock rolled through me,
With and without you.
A pillaging of the Dionysian lair:
The walls cryptically bare,
Paintings stripped,
Plush cushions ripped,
The windows dark.
Fire burnt out.