I spent the last two hours doing something I thought was good. But now I'm not too sure.

You know, I miss a lot of things,
beginning with-
curious I actually wasn't.
Awkward, strangely, it wasn't.

A drink or two
must've spilled.
There was a glossy sheen to the floor
when the lights flickered at 2:30 a.m.

The radio turned on
when the car started.
There were voices,
not singing,
just talking.
I'm becoming my father,
even though it's my mother
I desperately want to be.

Or any mother,
if I could just convince myself
and somebody else too.

You wouldn't know anything about this,
cause I can tell "you're not that kind."
Being the asshole in the right context
is doing the right thing.

You did the right thing,
I can accept that.

I'm starting to think
I wouldn't mind a working relationship,
not in the sense that it "works,"
cause that's so subjective.
But working like evolving,
like water.

Something just bit me, finally.
It's summer
and hot as fuck.

How could I explain this?
A phenomenon of sleepy eyes
and home made curtains
with uneven edges
dragging on the floor.
It's a beautiful color
but the fabric could be better.

I spent the last two hours
doing something I thought was good.
But now I'm not too sure.