She said she loved me
and I waited around,
counting years and our children,
blowing kisses at pretty girls,
or anyone who walked by my door.

Its strange,
in that foreign country
I found it hard to write.

I used to dance
in the imagination of others back then,
used to love my little women.
I'd drink them in at 3am
with sea salt and lime.
They'd never know what happened
until I signed my name
in a special place and flashed them a mischievous smile.

I guess you always see a prettier picture
when you look back.

She quit saying she loved me
over a year ago.
I had long since quit counting years or children.
There just wasn't any point.
Her kisses were all bittersweet
and there was nothing I could do about it by then.