Baby,
where did we get lost –
was it somewhere in between
the champagne
in paper cups
and taxi drivers
asleep at the wheel,

or,

In the forevers promised
and cups of tea
left cooling
in the morning dew.

Because I lost you,
amidst the wailing
guitars
and women,
whose voices
were louder than yours;

And you lost me
when you decided
that inside your head
was a better place
to live.

I’ll see you again,
whether on your own stage,
your face plastered onto their hearts,
or strapped
to white sheets
that smell too clean.

But before then,
write me,
and I’ll judge the letter’s
worth
by the tear-stained ink.