Max is in the corner, coughing up blood.
Mushrooms and pipe dreams intermingle above our heads.
Birthday cards,
gin and tonics,
well-wishes scattered throughout the room.

His (pleading) eyes never left my face.

There’s a couple of lovers left,
before the sad sets in.
I love the straight of your nose and the set of your mouth.

Smoky lights embrace the night.
Guys are ***** w/ red solo cups.
(sorry, he’s too drunk)
Keep going until the
goldschlagger...

here’s to Nat,
tall like a tree and just as wise,
quiet kind.
(quite the friend)

After we left, you found me in the kitchen.
Words don’t matter so much as
that earnest apology and the warmth
of your arms around me.