Word Play

She did not see you today–
or yesterday
but she saw you a thousand times this morning
and laughed at your silly rantings and yawnings
your impossible wishes for something better.
Then Washington crossed the river and
the Potomac flowed forever east
While she lay waiting for the moment
when getting up would cause you
to disappear into the bathroom light
washed away by the incredibly slow-warming water
siphoning away the last glimpse

Now midnight cold reminds her
of outer darkness spells,
the horrid, languishing tease–
quieted corners of fallen men
who felt as she did once

before sunrise warned her
to be careful.