Sushi served in styrofoam,
Red wine filled solo cups;
I felt too old, acting this young
Laughing in a room where nothing got done.
Bachelor pad in the making;
The wall art was scarce.
You spoke of past guests
Like they were timeshares.
Travel-sized soap on the vanity,
No food or drinks in the fridge.
Based on the texts you’ve sent,
Growing up will never be your thing.
The story you’ve created:
a beautiful, fictitious blend.
Only a reader like you
Can find a story in the end.