Strawberry puree & champagne in the backseat of your Hemi, I was along for the ride.
I was the elephant in the room as you two shared jokes over glass flutes.
She adjusted her shirt, you focused your eyes and ignored me, when I stepped inside.
Put on a song you like, she said to me.
There wasn’t a song loud enough to drown out the doubt in my mind, as I watched you serve her another red, bubbly pour.
Don’t be weird, come be with us.
Your eyes rolled. Your glare was dull and yet, sharp enough to sever the decade long tie between us.
There’s too many seeds in mine, she said, referring to her glass.
I never liked strawberry bellini anyway…
But you never asked.