older than you’d
guess, getting fancy
whiskey cocktails
while it snowed, she
was a nurse, straight-
ened her brown hair
very carefully each
morning, and only
half a drink in, asked
me to define my type,
what’s my type, who
did i usually see, what
kind of people, what
size and shape and
color and jobs, was
there any one specific
thing, said she would
make an exception for
a bisexual like me if
i wasn’t like they
usually are, you know
how they usually are,
you know that type,
she paid and drove
me home and there
was no should-we-
kiss-should-we-not,
just hopped out alone
to unlock the door,
fingertips cold, knocking
snow off my boots
one at a time, nothing
like how you
think it will be.
