Always fashionable, slightly in decline,
a mix of industrial and romantic lines,
at Duarte Square (under construction),
I wanted to kiss you, but I couldn’t.
I tried to picture my man there,
stopping off at an Italian cafe
drinking aperol spritzes
as we watch the couples walk their chocolate-colored dogs
But the pictures of him didn’t stay;
I couldn’t see him here.
I need someone here, to make out
with, to hold close, to show any known affection—
I am lonely as an island in this city,
savoring a touch, a look, a want,
I want love to be simple,