Uugh, I’m such a...

I want to get into writing my stories

but my mind keeps replaying memories

specifically, the one from earlier today

at the studio where I teach folks to paint

when a married couple came in for their 1 year

bringing with them his mother and father to share

2 bottles of wine between the 4 of them

having a good time and running over at the end

and that's when it happened...

He was the only one still wearing his apron

tied tight around his waist, looking great on him

but I made myself make it all about the paint

their art work and the experiences they make

but I couldn't let him walk out the door

still wearing that apron, bright and orange

so, I reached a hand toward his back

with his own hands full of canvas and bags

and warned him I was going to untie him

felt tension snap inside me, should I quit?

but he said it was okay and turned slightly

letting me pull the bow with one tug just rightly

then snagging the neck strap halter

to pull it off his head without falter

but alas, in effort not to touch the man

while under the string he ducked his head

I also managed to knock off his sunglasses...

My instinct to catch them was instantly stopped

the second they hit his pec and bounce off

his hand following them toward the floor

and I had to turn, shaking my head, the fool...

I didn't mean it in any way but to get the apron

but now I can't stop thinking I ruined the day for him

with my awkward sensitivities and idiosyncrasies

fucking up the order of my social conductivity

leaving me feeling weird for having that moment

and weirder still because I'm constantly re-living it...

- M.E.

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