i propose to kiss
without being a kisser.
when i find myself propping tongues
and twisting limbs to posed
movements. stopping we laugh.

to quit knowing when
drinks get sloppy and
how each word feels in my mouth.

two carmine glasses
we're sipping amnesia and
taking "one more to kick that fever out."
call it strep of myself.



'midnight in a perfect world.'
something like floating
not familiar and feeling light.
i watch me
forgetting step after step,

a waltz;
fluid, and rehearsed
but solace lies interspersed.

i don't really know why i chose the format. i think it is two entirely contrasting ideas that independently work together to deliver an actual point.