My heart hurts a little today,
as I leave her late and longing.
Barely made it,
gonna make things there,
despite the dude next to me.
Find myself talking
in a pseudo southern accent
by Brooklyn standards.
Poeming through my beard
within my own lo mein pleasure,
and I steal your power.
My dance card is pretty full,
but we will do this between stand-up gigs
and showers.
All day thinking about last night,
and I can't wait to dream.