So I blew the first one, made a bad decision.
Not a rookie mistake; newbies don’t choke so hard.
We were getting the feel and it felt pretty good.
I thought she wanted more, and she showed me the door.
The second time, really, was not my fault.
It started out promising, the way good ones do.
Who knew her ex would blow back into town,
like spit against the wind, chagrin splattering my face.
Number three was unlucky, plagued by distance before cells.
Somehow our letter writing signals got crossed.
The hell of it was, since we never did speak about it,
I didn’t know for sure if she’d actually moved on.
The third time definitely was not the legendary charm.
I’m still wondering if there’s some nifty myth about a fourth.
Lanning Lee 