“I was just going to ask
you to leave,” was the answer
to whether or not he was getting
kicked out. Fair enough. Pack
in that computer, and don’t let
her see the t-shirt & boxers; boy
how pretentious is he? assuming
he could stay. There was a wish
somewhere among all this, that
it would just start pouring, sleeting
even.
Then, maybe, (no touching though,
seriously) he could have just begged
to sleep on the couch.