You and I sat on the curb outside our favorite
diner, cheap cigars dangling from our lips
as our hands became tangled up in
one another.
We took turns taking deep drags,
you exhaling in one go,
I opening my mouth and letting
the smoke billow endlessly through the
empty parking lot.
We were still dressed to the nines,
our dancing shoes still tied.

And later in the evening,
when you and I were entwined together
atop your couch,
we watched in silence as the dawn approached,
the rising sun a foggy grey,
as the mourning doves and robins called out
to their mates, awakening the sleep-laden
sun to greet the horizon.
You rolled over to face me,
that drowsy squint creased into
the corners of your eyes,
bringing my ear to your lips
as you whispered,
“Home at long last,”
and I knew you meant
I had found it
in you.