The Good Guy Game

Why is it when I try to say yes
I end up doing the right thing instead?

You gave me the green light,
my hand slid higher,
but when the night closed
I took the train.

Your kiss lingered longer, lighter
the more I lived it out,
and yet I'm sitting here and you're on the 18th floor
or wherever it is you live.

Your legs were trembling,
I felt the shade from your lips,
and all I could think was
don't make promises you can't keep.

I suppose that's why you like me,
and why I will continue to disappoint you.

Or are you happy I dropped you off
and let you down again?

Is that what we do, you and I?

Wherever we went, we turned heads
snapping to the girl in the short skirt
with the handsome man at her arm.

They all assume we're entwined now,
breathing hard and twisting bedsheets
into origami folds.

I'm even disappointing strangers.

I can keep this up indefinitely,
this good-guy routine.

It isn't me,
but I'm playing that game
for now.

If only you didn't have friends
and couldn't find out
how I'm treating the other
women in your life.

Maybe then I might not say no.