what’s good

this be that good but not that good that it is great but not that bad that it is terrible but just good enough like a drive away from the city, though there’ll be traffic, or like a seeing a flower spring from the ground, though it is still too cold, or like you liking me again, though you won’t soon for i am not good, stumbling here, going on too long, preparing you for every lover you will ever love, those good husbands that will kiss you in places we once roared through with laughter, those good boys who will not wrong you with a worse joke, who will not write this steady tedium, who will write more if that means that you are feeling good, feeling them, feeling their energy from miles away in the same way that i am, apart, distant, still not good but being where i am told that yes, kacper, this is for the best, this needs to happen, this is good for we are not.

later, you sit down in a chair already deflated from the losses of before.