What are you waiting for, waitress?
I surround nothing and nothing surrounds me
I put boots on before I put my pants on, for now I’m basically naked, but my shoes are on
I’m not sure who’s sleeping on the right side of my bed
Shouldn’t it have been someone else?
I feel his steps behind me while I’m watching a black and white portrait photo at an art gallery
I’m smoking a long cigarette
I also don’t know him
Therefore he can’t tell I’ve changed my haircut
Someone stop this vintage music
Things I have been good at became strange in an instant, merely mysteries…
The other couple is looking at another photograph
This time it’s two
In the photograph I mean
A steep pain lingers her face when he rubs his heavy palm on her cheek
She enjoys it anyways because she shakes at the merely thought of pleasing him
She doesn’t know much about pleasure
The other couple knows, she talks fast and annoyingly
It’s awful people
He calls her a cab
Look me in the eye tell me you are not in love with me, he cries pathetically
Closes cab door
Where to, love?