That's February Two, To You:

She traded a cold Monday for vodka over ice in a rocks glass, two olives please. Rain on the window glass dripped in neon streaks. Her face shadowed -- a nighttime lean. Lipstick gleamed. A party.

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Just sipping wine and wondering about my time

that I keep

that I spend

that I give way

everyday

how about you?

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I dreamed.

He slowed to look at me. His hair messy on his cheeks, stubble. Curving jaw fitting my hand. A song with blue eyes.

Then he was in my past and years behind me and someone else was near. A body against me and warm hands beneath. I peeked through an open door, wondering if anyone would see.