Wednesday, December 26, 2012

Las Vegas, La Troisième Partie

I walked through the Bellagio, where we first met. Past the familiar deep red carpets, decor of mature elegance, and the clanging slot machines.

I glanced inside the bar where you bought me a drink that first night. An amaretto sour.

I walked by a sign pointing to Wet Republic. On this cold December day, I reminisced about that afternoon in May when we agreed to meet up there. I never came.

It seemed like an eternity ago. So distant, yet so familiar. 

I wondered how you were doing on this fine Christmas Day. I wanted to tell you that I finally watched Cirque du Soleil, Kà.Your favorite was The Beatles LOVE.

I wanted to fulfill my promise to come back to Vegas and hang out with you.

I wanted to know if you remember me half as much as I remember you.

I wanted to tell you that I was back.

But I didn't.

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