Lonely while, on the appealing other

hand or side of the same coin, enjoying

the lack of all sense of obligation,

I vainly wait for real consolation                   

or reasonably wait for the merely –

what? Wet drink, to indulge an empty glass?

An ardent partner, whom I won’t much like

and who won’t much like me, for just one night?

Well I don’t drink wine and anyway she

had none (the empty glass clumsy and slight

as some inapt metaphor), just Pepsi.

Needy as I was, I reached out for her

to map the measure of my precedent

waiting-for; limn its limited content.