Friday started early—
       Fish Market espresso martinis,
                   my oysters on ice,
                   yours rockefeller,
                 not hungry for food…
         just chasing that same jolt.

Back to Irby’s,
     one beer turning into three,
     time stretching
     as your friends ran late. (thanks, friends)

Then—
     a gut check I couldn’t ignore,
     one oyster cut from the lineup.

A deep hug goodbye,
   me walking home…

   already bracing.

But the night was brief,
               not lost—

By 9:15 I was de-oystered and settled in,
          Chiefs and Chargers… in Brazil?
                         Giants at Cards,
                       Astros at Rangers,
                      Dodgers at Orioles,
                      Mariners at Braves—

    five scoreboards humming in the dark.

Still, I wished
       it was you beside me.

Later, the phone lit up—
      dings in the dark,
          you home safe.

And then—
    your words,
    lighting up the dark: “I miss you.”
    my reply,
    finally stealing the line: “I didn’t say it first
                                so I could miss you more
                                for once.”

The kind of late-night turn
    that makes the silence softer,
                 distance lighter,
                     sleep easier.

And today—
    your question still echoing:

    “Would you like to hang out with Coal?”

“Fuck yeah,” I said.

So it’s a Coal day,
      sun breaking,
    beers sweating,
    Jackets on the field,

    Irby’s patio ours again.

A weekend beginning
  with oysters,
      laughter,
soft reversals
of words we’ve said so often.

Miss you more—
     *this* time…

     I finally got there first.