| Rampant Insecurity Past middle-of-the-night I think I might've called you but I don't remember much besides the cool burst of you in my periphery. We'd been out dancing, drinking my orange syrup and fire in shot glasses. Techno right in the bloodstream goes deep, more than simply being with you, though they are cut together. Said g'night somewhere, maybe in my driveway, and somehow I woke in my own bed. Was I alone all night? ...Just can't remember, but I dreamed about you again. The deja vu of 4:00am: conversation was fierce, or was it? Why does it have to be so impossible? Everything about you is wrong, or everything about me is skewed, pushed and pulled and stuck back together in odd ways. Do I dare punch your number now in the light of day? Do I apologize, explain, or just try to feel you out? In two more weeks you'll be bored with the novelty of me, anyway. Some little hiphugger-jeaned glitter-belted little hottie will flash her belly button piercing at you and that'll be the end. But, for now, another one for the road, for my collection. Oh I wish, oh so bad. I don't know whether I should be rolling on my back for laughing at myself or again, for other reasons. PamEhli/2002 |