"I never met a bridge that I didn't burn," he said,
"never seen a foot that I didn't shoot
especially if it was mine.
Never had a heart that had a home."

"Me," she said "I never had a heart I didn't betray
and give away;
never loved a man I should have.

I have carried too much water in leaky buckets;
loved men I couldn't see couldn't love back.
And now" she said, "there's you."

He said:

"There's nary a woman that loved me that I truly deserved;
I've spent most of my love making time and whiskey-fying,
chasing skirts, raising hell, and giving hurt;
and now I need someone to help me mend my ways,
help I know I don't deserve."

She said
 "You an old boy fresh out of rehab;
 my kind of man--
 can't see too good--
and still needs a woman's touch".

You're my man," she said.
"I like low-hanging fruit
 that's been around the block or two,
that life's made eat a little humble pie."

"You could be my woman" he said "if you'd have me."
"Oh I'll have you" she said "you're my favorite kind of mistake to make."

She meant every word she said and called them a cab
from Rusty's bar to go look for a rental place--
love being where you find it--
 Love's Refugees riding around town trying to find a home,
start again,
Cowboy and
Cowgirl Style;

still determined 
despite age
to Wrangle Life
yet again.

(Complete version to be included in upcoming collection of short stories)