“karma” – it was my father's birthday and we sat in my room, looking through the polaroid pictures on my desk. it was obvious that i'd changed, paid for my sins, birthed myself into a new body with new skin. there is a rhythm in cleaning yourself. you had not changed, at least not in ways that i could see. i unwrap another piece of chocolate and you laugh. i look at you. “what?” i ask. “you’re ridiculous,” you say, holding up a photo.
“languish” – we'll be together at a party this saturday in a basement somewhere, standing on the cusp of a decision, inching toward a precipice where things stop happening. it's the drop off between the end of a year and the beginning of summer, a hot sticky mess where i don't know what to call you or if i should call you. i can't stand it.
“macabre” – we're so hungry but we can't eat.
“naive” – you're so in my blood it’s ridiculous! do you even know? could you even know? i ask you and you reply so slow your breath doesn't even leave your mouth and mine just gets hotter and hotter. i'm shaking with anger and you've got your legs crossed! my shame for wanting something is eating me alive and you're just clicking your tongue.
“oasis” – i'd do anything for you, anything for you, anything for you, anything for you, anything for you, anything for you, anything for you, anything for you, anything for you, anything for you, anything for you, anything for you, anything for you, anything for you, anything for you, anything for you, anything for you, anything for you, anything for you, anything for you, anything for you, anything for you, anything for you, anything for you, anything for you, anything for you, anything for you, anything for you, anything for you, anything for you, anything for you.