Plateau and Falter

Typing his story at his desk chair
A voice reminds him from the living room
To clean up his big mess
But he’s caught between being
Overly analytic and oblivious
In these halcyon nights
He hears words but can’t hear her
Can’t focus on finding the subtext
Sitting crossed-leg on the couch
She knows he’s part pessimist and part Narcissist
Where the beginning and the end meet
Spinning circles like Frisbees on the finger
Like they did so many years ago on the beach
Be fore he got trapped in that fine but invisible point