waiting for my uber ride, buzzed from two meagre glasses of house red, i am a hot mess with my slimy phone .
he still has that rummy smile in his profile pic. Facebook, with much ill will, implies he may be someone I know.
close to my loafers, a puddle of yesterday’s rain water goes on being sullied by the city lights and other detrita from a vanished world, a world before the deluge.