give me a signal and i will close my eyes for good
6:48 p.m.

i have never uttered those three little evils to your face. nor have i turned further than a quarter inch to now watch the reaction on your face.

parts of me want to laugh at you, laugh at this, just fall giggling at the fear.

then your lips and your eyes hit my view and with fantasy and desire my incompetance becomes quite clear:

you were just the girl i spent soaking on for the year i call favorite of my life. when being oldest was a prize and work was bullshit: when i learned the guitar riff and was in continual waiting to commit.

those were days when i could stare at you straight on and not grimace. those were times where i could give gifts to you and share pop culture like you were one to care. if we ever knew each other, it wasn't but for brief excerpts in the script now trashed on the editor's floor.

here's the thing.

i remember you crashing into me that afternoon, when 3:35 still rang with rebellion and christmas was like an island of happy dejection both with and without your inattention.

i still recall the glint of your eyes as i sat myself up, when my muscles were staunch, when i had a little pride left in that area.

i'm not trying to renovate the fact that we're different or adults or apathetic in our anger.

it's too late for so much and there were so many new details about your persona i longed to memorize.

lust is a burden.

i'm sorry to leave it on your shoulders.

flick me off tomorrow, first thing

and i'll realize.

i'll cut these cheap poetic ties.

i'll not look again

for fear of the

sumptuousness

in those

arrogant

gray-

lavender

eyes.

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