It hurts my heart to think that your fingers only dialed my number the day your cinnamon lipped lover lost her taste. I wonder how long you waited after her long legs excused themselves from your prescence to give me a phone call and waste 5 minutes and 47 seconds of my life that I will never get back. I think I’ll wait a while before I tell the waitress at the corner cafe that the love she said was the greatest of all ended when you found a girl with a shorter skirt and a more magical embrace. Her tan arms and her long legs enchanted you and my dark skin and brown eyes lost their luster. Maybe soon I’ll fall in love. Or maybe you’ll be back. I’ll be at the corner cafe where we met.