Sitting on a blue couch
with circles on it while my head is spinning.
Smile, smile, smile.
Another glass of wine. I'm good.
He tells me something interesting.
And I feel like calling him
something beautiful, because
that's what he is,
even if he doesn't realize it.
I watched him leave that last time.
He doesn't know it, but I watched him
from the corner of my window
as he sat at the top of my driveway.
Goodbye sweet man.
Too sweet for me. I could never
even fight him. Not that I want
to. It's just you've got to be willing.
And I'm not.
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