You say, "This is awkward." The way most people point out that it's raining. It's obvious that yes, It is. Your hand is on the button and your eyes are on the ground and I'm waiting to go up while you're waiting to go down and it's funny. I wonder why you find this so awkward but I don't ask. Maybe it's because you wear coward so well and I, lioness, greet you well with grinning teeth and confidence. In this very moment, technology and its failure have become my new favorite elephant in the room, stomping about blindly, pushing its trunk into the space between us, I love this discomfort. I love the tension thick as rope. I love that you probably wish you could tie it around your neck right now. I stare directly into you because I love feeding the caged animal. I am an intentional catalyst for your internal, "Oh ****." Is this what happens when there is too much weakness on one side for closure? When the scales shift to the right And the left falls completely? Does it make you uneasy that I still exist after you stopped talking to me? bless this malfunctioning, how I am grateful for the comedy for these few minutes of entertainment and your desperation hanging from your pockets, I could see it clearly, how awkward.