Dumped at door post-midnight mass asdastardly date runs off, tail between
ski-sculpted legs to spend time, make time,
with curvier nemesis. Sleep's out of the
question as new year unfolds, kill time
memorizing poetry, bravely fending
off wasteful tears, relentless
unrequited teenage love.
Those who wish for youth's return forget
such pain existed. Equal passion possible today,
tenderly tempered by wisdom and discretion
sadly lacking in the past. I wouldn't trade this
New Year's Eve away, and neither, I am sure,
would he. Very curvy nemesis may have
other thoughts tonight, but I still know that poem.
(c) Ellen Gillette, 2012
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