Yes, you’re sitting across a table from me. You’re talking. You’re saying something I want to really listen to, but I keep losing interest. Your hair, is it blonde or brown? Are your eyes really green? Who’re your inspirations, who were you imagining when you picked out that sun dress? What do you really want to say? Your tits are not too big, and that’s always nice. You’re talking about school. You’re talking about your finals projects. I don’t care. It makes me think only of how different we are. I don’t know why you’re here. I know why I’m here but it’s costing me more than money. I like the way you smile. It’s why I’m here. And the way you might look naked on your kitchen floor.
