The ash tray is not big enough tonight
We engage in a banter that stretches telephone lines
Expanding stories
and sinking teeth deep into connecting
He is my Chicago Boyfriend
We sit and chat over a smoke on the balcony
Except my phone screen is the reflection of the infatuation
He is smitten
And I cannot disagree
When the mirror is of our matching grins
Laughs into
Overflowing cigarette butts
Conversations slow as the night does not fail to end
But I remind myself as I hang up
Things always have a chance to begin again
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