I’m sorry
but though you’ve told me “No”
in four different languages
with a dozen different dialects,
I still maintain a glimmer of hope
in our eventual future.

No, you explained quite well
how we are a bad idea,
unwise and unheralded,
and you couldn’t in good conscience
go out with a thing like me.
You said it again
after your third drink
and then the fifth,
over a series of smoke breaks,
and in between a variety of stories
of boys and girls who did you wrong
in the distant present.

I am happy
to be added
to the list
of mistakes you need to fix.
You are, after all,
so very good
at holding on to bad habits.