The Hot Girl At The Casino

There’s a hot girl at the casino

She works security 

And she’s so purtty 

Her pants ain’t tight yet that ass looks great

I think she likes me, she looks my way

Is that a sign? It has to be

We want to talk to each other

But naturally 

She tries to get close 

But never close enough

Fuck it! I’m gonna approach tonight 

If I see her! Maybe she’s not working

I hope every day I’m working, she’s working

I think the only reason I’m still working there is to see her – she makes it worth it 

Maybe one day

When we’re 

Happily (?)

Married with children, vacationing in Reno

We’ll come back and read the poem titled: The Hot Girl At The Casino 

Deep Thinking 

I’m trying to give this NEW girl her space

To text her, how long should I wait?

Maybe I won’t even do it today 

So she can be like “hmm, I wonder what’s up with Jose.”

And she will text me first perhaps 

The psychology of seeming to be less attracted, attached 

If only I did not have to conceal what was so 

That’s when I realize I don’t 

And text her a simple “hello”

Maybe she’ll smile and say 

“Well, what do you know…”