"Hey, where are you?"
"LOST", i muttered and started to laugh and then he laughed and i don't remember the rest. I don't remember his door, all those stairs to the second story, the clatter we made making our way down the hall, never turning the lights, the hall lights or his room lights, falling into the futon on his floor. I don't even remember how all our clothes came off.
Yeah i know, the dots here don't really connect. After all, how does one go from a piece of poetry to a heart wrenching beauty to the details of a drunken one night stand? I mean even if you could connect those dots, which i don't think you can, WHAT KIND OF PICTURE WOULD YOU REALLY DRAW?
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I only write ...