prom night.

you sound the best with the fall of transition on in the background,
i am of course referring to the way i see you & this seeing is the problem.

i became more concerned with being poetic than saying what happened; if i cant do both, i dont care.

so he looks at me. when we're talking, he wont stop smiling & he wont break eye contact.

even when hes talking to other people, he wont stop.

but prior to this he was acting strange(r than usual) & i looked at him & started laughing. "are you drunk?"
he smiled. "why would you say that?"

"because you seem drunk."

& this is where the look starts - i say the look, singular, because it doesnt at any point stop. there's no blinking, but we need to watch this because it draws attention to ourselves.

so hes smiling & looking me in the eye, & he raises up his glass, "this was water. i'm going to get some more, okay? i'm not avoiding you. i just need water. for my throat. it hurts. from the talking. with the music. its loud in here. i'm going to get some water, okay?" & i laughed,

"okay."

he started to walk away, stopped, turned around & opened his mouth to say something & he's all eyes. finally he says, "i like this song." (which, in truth,

i hated to hear. it was alien ant farm, & i hate when the men in my life are similar. i wanted to be like,

thats not your band. thats his, we're trying to forget all that, but you're not supposed to be connected to that. you're my elliott smith, my incubus, my suzanne vega but not alien ant farm.

someday i hope to be less irrational.) he hesitated,

"i'll be back," he said.
& when he was, i wasnt.

he looked around the room & saw me standing with some people.
he just looked for a minute, then started laughing & sat down at the nearest empty table.

before & after