some nights are alright, you know?

i come home, i cook myself dinner, i drink a beer, i talk to someone great on the phone for awhile

i sit on my steps and smoke a cigarette, i can see the moon becoming fat in the sky, the air is perfectly cool and whips my hair around a little bit, it makes my skin feel alive

i clean things a little, i get an email from my sister that she wants to visit

someone tells me it's ok that i'm so spacey and i don't feel so bad about it

someone calls me beautiful and holds a door open for me

i think about niki and jon and know that i am cared about

i think about oakland and ache for her lonely trainyards and the bay bridge

i feel a little sadness about leaving the beauty of seattle

my mother leaves a message on my phone telling me she loves me

things are ok