Fresh like salsa when i bust rhymes

Crap poetry for your early afternoon amusement. These were all penned during lunch, on the margins and back of a Chipotle take-out menu (looks cool too; black gel ink on recycled brown cardstock). Almost-first drafts, so they're...well, crap.

1.

when i saw her i knew
that all hope was not lost,
despite the fact that
this she will never be
my hope, my own;

the fact that she exists
compels me to believe
that somewhere
beyond the pale grey fog
is another she
that corresponds to me.

2.

in the past year i
have fallen for two women
and revealed my affection
to neither.
the first because i learned
that she was not for me;
the second because i was
beaten to the punch
by another worthy.

in the next year i hope to
fall in love three times,
reveal my love twice,
and at least once
have my love
exchanged with
another's.

3.

chile-corn salsa,
deceptive,
appearing safe and
familiar,
going down
cool,
and then lighting
a fire
in my mouth.

4.

fish-net stockings,
low-heeled black shoes, and
a khaki skirt-hem
failing to hide
your well-formed calves.
it's a shame i
could only see you
from the knees down
through this mostly-covered
window.
i wonder if the rest of you
would have lived up to
the expectations set
by your two
lovely
legs.