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I
was sick of the outskirts, where girls have
to
wear skirts. Just like you said, it's a whole
different
town downtown. When we took our
contacts
out & started reading Watership Down
aloud
together, I forgot all about the revolution.
It
was quite a revelation: prescription
shades
make it possible to wear glasses
&
be cool. This is where we go to eat with 24-
hour
party people. The name of the diner? 24-
Hour
Twilight Zone. The staff? Zombies: bony,
stoned.
It reminded me of a B horror movie.
Bring
either a skeleton or a skeleton
key—secret
directions in
the "Missed Connections" section.
I
checked my voicemail, while you were recopying
the
menu in Sanskrit, hieroglyphics, or possibly
wingdings.
We nibbled at a little bit of breakfast.
Our
own tiny kingdom of love? No. Something
less
soulful, like a booth at McDonald's, though
you
seemed impervious, eyes locked on my shirt,
wondering,
Leporidae: family of leopards, or
variety
of rabbit. I wanted adventures in
wonderland,
not misadventures in narcolepsyville;
wake
up, sleepyhead—I don't want to yell.
Your
uncle wrote a book on the details of hell.
Your
father had a bridge play named after him
&
bridge is full of directions: N S E & W—
I'm
afraid of where you might take me.
I'm
afraid of birds & bees. A busy schedule
trumps
anxiety, & if I had one, I'd tattoo it on
my
right arm. If I signed this hole in the ground
instead
of your dotted line, what could
be
the harm? To do more good than harm's
always
been my goal. You blamed it on
the
rainy season, but there's a reason I felt
suspicious
before moving. The name of the
complex
is Lostmore Apartments. When I lost
my
sense of temporality, I was at a loss
as
to how to make even temporary sense
of the
senseless & starry wide-world. They
shut
off the heat & somehow it was colder
inside,
so we slept in our car last night.
Sucked
so hard. But we got the docs.
The
last one said: the only way to get rid
of
your soul is to sell it & if this means
walking
into the hands of the devil so be it.
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