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November 20, 2005 - 3:23 a.m.

you always seem perplexed that people find you exasperating.
that people's drinks end up in your face and you're having trouble containing the desire to kiss someone's best friend
I tell you that i don't 'like you' and you act offended.
but I, for one, am being honest,
cause, as I explained,
I don't know you.

that's the point.
i don't and although the idea of you seems nice,
you seem like a whole lot of trouble.
as for the rest, those voyeur girls who tell me, in round about ways,
that they've seen me naked, already,
and can still look in my face, not-quite sober and tell me
they like to dance
after hours of waiting in line to go to parties that are way too packed.
and we arrive home to find an exploded bag of catnip, and a stoned cat
lounging on the floor
looking at us like we just walked in wearing unitards and roller skates
we're really just fizzling down from post-bar mayhem that was curtailed at just the right moment. soon enough to serve as an interlude to sleep and brunch and all the things I'm dreaming of eating...
until then, I'll wash the mascara from my face and slip into sleep that will hit hard. like the techno i was so not into dancing too or your pretty tits in that wife beater, that we tried so hard not to stare at.

 

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