I hold on so nervously to me and my drink; I wish it was cooling me. But so far, has not been good, it’s been shitty. And I feel awkward, as I should. This club has got to be, the most pretentious thing since I thought you and me. Well I am imagining, a dark lit place or your place or my place. Well I’m not paralyzed but, I seem to be struck by you. I want to make you move because you’re standing still. If your body matches, what your eyes can do. You’ll probably move right through me on my way to you.