Stumbling through those friends that are always talking about living,
or rather surviving the weekend purge and the Republican riots
dancing the candid dance that leaves too soon and
just before you get the chance to say what you think and,
what you feel regarding how women can ruin good days and fix the bad ones;
how the girls make the days and the mornings made of elementary attitude that made me ask about your coffee preferences and your mistakes.
Stumbling, I heard you singing
that inevitable eulogy .
But, if it was you, you would have known and
never would have forgotten me like the moonshine and those men who keep you ticking.