When you said I could walk you home
at the end of the day,
I ran out of the place
energetic and a little bit sick.
I was enthusiastic for the opportunity
to spend a little time with you
even in transit,
even if I was delivering you
to a door you would only lock behind you.
I was filled with kinesis,
anticipating whatever possibilities
might be coming my way
a few hours later
at the end of your shift.
So I lost track of time.
And I lost track of my sobriety
and eventually, I lost track of you
missing out on the golden ticket
that would provide me precious moments
of your day
or maybe you just ghosted me.
The jury’s still out.
One thing is sure, though,
after your shift was over,
I was more than a little sick.