Office held me hostage today—
       keyboard clattering like gunfire,
       fires sparked, then quenched,

       until everything blurred into a crescendo of controlled chaos.

Lunch with the CTO,
      clarity amid calamity,
      big moves whispered between bites,

      promises simmering in every pause.

Then—
    an incident, unexpected,
    stubborn enough to stretch
    an already long day
    until eight o'clock—

    the evening slipping through my fingers.

Now, at Irby's,
     the night softens,
     quieting down the volume,
     beer slowly sweating at my side,
     glancing at the door,
     heart hoping you step through—

     late shift starting in your smile.

You just woke from a nap,
    and I’m wondering if
    your sleepy steps
    might lead you here?

    If your night’s just beginning, or gently fading into dreams.

Either way, I’ll wait—
       holding out for one last shift,
                    a little overtime,
         a chance to unwind the chaos
                     in your laughter,
             to clock out of this day
               with your hand in mine,

       closing another wild day with the calm of your presence.