i sat in the second row, just right from center. waiting. gave the man my last dollar, just to see you. to hear you talk. to watch you act, this little troupe you're in like a college saturday night live with more profanity.i watch your movements, the way your eyes dart to mine every once in awhile and share a secretive, i know what you look like without clothing glance. and then they dart away again, as if you're nervous to look at me.
there's a grace in the way you walk around the stage, an embarrased but pleased look to you as you put on this little show. a glint, a fire. something that fascinates me about you.
and later, when i learn that *she* broke up with her boyfriend tonight, all i can feel is jealousy. that she once had what we have now.
and i console myself with the fact that everything between us happened sober. couldn't say that for you and her.