Saturday, June 29, 2013

170

I think I see you as you are as you think you are when you're alone.
I make you feel like not the only one in the room, but the lonely one in the room. I could make a joke or say something that's obvious like comment on the weather. Physical obvious observation obviously a deterrence to what I really want to ask and to what you really want to say. A smile passes It off. That silence of complete un-understanding more deafening than the tone of a woman screaming an orgasmic YES. And more uncomfortable than him not coming but doing all the work. A Conceptual Fuck. I'm used to tripping out in layers of complexity in total silence, layers like that strange flavor of chocolate cake I wanted only after you had described it, having wanted to eat it too. Licking my fingers before I even taste it. Feeling nauseous knowing I will succumb when the fork is to my mouth. And feeling better when we are on a road trip and when we come across a fork in the road, and you will ask me, "which way?" And I will open my mouth and say "left" but in my mind I will think 'did I really mean right?' But then having gone left and having stayed there for a while, and thinking of all the possibilities of right, it will have seemed as mundane as aftertaste, as a party missed, as the morning after, as pineapple or fruit punch. It's all just different combinations of dust and sugar and air.

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