even amidst old friendship
there is the grip of tension in your belly,
the dry mouth,
the familiar anxiety when there is a lull
in the conversation just long enough
for it to be just the littlest bit awkward,
the staleness of a forced joke
that makes you feel vaguely uneasy
but you laugh because silence is never
the better option,
and you count this night a victory
because otherwise it’s just one more losing battle.