welcome back, shoulder pain
six hours, like the advil says
and you're back, again
tingling pinching nerves
like a teenager's first blow job
on a sunday after church

i bet you didn't think
i'd welcome you this way
but i'm tired of running
from you, shoulder pain

you're part of my mornings
evenings and gripping game
without a declaration of purpose
rushing to the brain
when i'm waiting at a bus stop
at peace without you, shoulder pain

along the cold streets
two bachelor feet allow themselves
to find numbness
but not us, we're loyal dunces
and live by the moments in which we bloom in unison

a girl like you would be the end
of restless nights and miserable mornings
or maybe i misunderstand
the ways a human heart uncovers
the delicate intricacies of its infrequent yearnings