This weekend hurt—
     Gordon Lightfoot’s ghost
     whispering “Goodbye, Tj”,
     your silence deafening,

     my days dark and movie-filled.

Saturday shifted
         from heartbreak to “Crazy”—
              JoJo slipping in,
         apology in a pop song,
                      soothing,
                     confusing,
                 you being you,
         Mari doin Mari things.

Sunday blurred into baseball blues,
       four close losses,
       one gut-punch finish,
       Rangers’ final dagger—
       heartbreak in Arlington,

       2-1 and done.
       (_missed the sweep, too_)

But Monday?
    Monday brings hope—
    your text arrived soft,
    asking about today,
    gentle and unsure,
    like you didn’t already know

    I’d say yes. (*fuck* yes)

Oh-for-Four weekend
            behind us now,
      bruised but smiling,
   cautious but breathing—
  ready for today’s swing,
whichever pitch you bring.