I am gaga for authority figures
How close up to someone do you have to be to realize they are 25, single, and do not shave their legs on a regular basis?
It feels good to wish you happiness
I feel you push it right back to me
Like ping pong
Or a trampoline
Or the resistance of my mattress when I press against it
When I wish you happiness, I know you wish it for me, too
As you wander the world, looking for things to impress an artsy peace core chick,
Pause for a Melissa thing or two
Take a minute and miss me
I’m here, too
“I don’t know how old you are, don’t take this the wrong way, but you are very wise,” he said to me, awkwardly confessing to me, in a way I’ve always known to mean: I want to fuck you and feel uncomfortable about it.
“It’s fine, I want to fuck you, too!” I wanted to shout back. I wanted to make him comfortable, let him know it’s mutual, let him into my head where I fawn over him, yet where I watch him whince when I tease him, overanalyze him: a symptom of my obsession, his quirks are all so cute to me.
He hasn’t let on yet that I am so warm to him. I can’t let on to him that I am so warm. I want him to know, we’re in the same place, with a wink or accidental bump, a physical connection of meaning. I want to jump him mid meeting. I will not jump him. I will not let on. I cannot let on.
He used hand lotion for lube, and I got an infection.
Take a vacation to the past and could have been.
Come visit me across the country and live what I can see.
Just for a short while, try out the places I see you at, indulge a fantasy.
Let go a little; take a vacation to the past and could have been with me.
I was in town for just a couple days. It was dark and the road was shiny with wetness from an earlier rain. I was running between plans, cramming much into a couple days, trying not to be late to meet my boyfriend’s friends. It was a little east in the East Village, a little past where I usually find myself. The street was a little quieter, a little calmer than the ones engulfing it. You walked right up to me, also alone, eager to see me, like a dream, out of years of the abyss, I appeared. I saw me through your eyes, through the director’s eyes. You were eager to catch up, tell me about yourself, who you are today, on this night. You insisted we meet up later if I ended up going out. Last I heard, you were dating a supermarket heir and had developed a red head fetish.
It was good to see you out and alive. I worry about you a little less now.