[039]
05/19/2008 06:30 p.m.
i will have vague drunken memories of this for the rest of my life:
how i danced like a crazy bitch and he and everyone held back self-
consciously. how i've thrown self-consciousness to the wind in this
windy city, which will never embody me the way that miami's sun-baked
sticky corridors did -- identity-less, i am dressed like a whore because

"fuck it. i don't know anyone in this city anyway." as a stranger here
i can move in the ways only strangers can: boisterous and egocentric and
forgotten aside from snippets. connectivity low and self-exploitation
high in the way of priorities.

i am: brief, self contained, courteous to the point of suspicion and
smoking every hour on the hour --
i am: hungry, aching, sweating down my armored spine and it's awkward
when you touch me, no matter the reason --

at a quarter 'til six in the morning i run screaming down the pavement
hailing a cab because i'm honestly too trashed and terrified to be here.
because coffee with you in the morning would be lovely but my bed and
the familiar softness of a familiar belly would be better. because when
i wake up and the sickness wears off, i'll be filled with that familiar
missing --

infatuation, desperation, need and want and body-electricity, passion and
connection, and giant forms sleeping like great mountains beside me, slipping
down paths my feet have yet to master, i miss, i miss, i miss, i miss.




_____________

i may move this if i ever grow more fond of it.
I am currently Affectionate