What I hoped you’d say:

I walk into the only bar I’d suggested
And you said “G and T”
And you were as lovely as I’d hoped
But I was too afraid
“Gauloise, peut-être?”
And I took instead
A Fred
And I saw you.
I saw you, and
And my ego couldn’t take it.
And I thought of 
That Brautigan
You know the one? 
Columbus and his new world.
Thinking about your petals unfolding.
My ship touching the new world.
It would be
It would be tonnes of fun.
Nightclub bathroom, my place
Your bed
I’d even venture west
The whole fucking summer.
The whole summer, fucking.
Spent with pseudo-lovers.
After all, you are American
Did you finish that book
on your nightstand?
In your tiny Ikea box?
I do hope you’re okay.
All right?