I'm so frustrated I could very well scream and wake the neighbors from their peaceful dreamlands because of my own stupidity.

Spent most of the night teasing you.
Winding you up like
a jack-in-the-box.
Waited for you to strike.

But you didn't.
And that's probably a
good thing.

It had gotten colder,
and my shoes click-click-clicked
across the sidewalk as I left.
It is a good thing.
I couldn't have dealt with
the aftermath.