The Bartender and I Like the Same Song

I told her

it was better than anything

I had written lately while sober.

She smiled, I could tell that

she thought that was sad,

until she read it and her face

slightly shifted

because I was right.

This is momentum.

Sitting back, waiting.

Not worrying if anyone can decode

my coy behavior.

Between stained paper

place mats and plastic flowers

that don't remind me of

anything at all, we

didn't know that we weren't already -

I couldn't rip up that napkin enough.

I wouldn't allow it to go back on me.

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