Running Out
Did I know we had run out of time when
I grabbed a fistful of your shirtfront
and pulled you to me for a hard kiss?
Did I know that would be the last
except for the one in my dream where you
held me in your arms before
driving off in your 1963 Cadillac convertible
loaded to the gills with suitcases and kids?
I was tired of motel rooms anyway.
