Eighteen

Please smile, wide and stretching, make it hurt your lips. Your eyes, let them well-up with laughing, let it hurt your tummy. Let's go out I'll say, and you'll say Kay, and I'll give you clothes to wear. You'll wear a white dress, it's all I have white or cream, ore there's white or cream? And She'll say white.

We don't want to miss it, don't want booze to soak it up for us.

I want a beat, something strong and itching, to build and push against me. I want to feel bodies, shoving - moving, soft curves and jagged lines. Fingers touching, lips parting.

Take me into the heat of it, as people push and pulse as one, let it soak me in, drench me in its sound. It's noise.

Let me sweat, hair yet, eyes dark. Let me feel apart of something, a crowd moving when standing still, the anticipation, no, the anxiety of it all. Let it break me down. Let it make me crumble, beneath the weight of something light.

We'll come home and eat lots of bits of crunchy bread, spreeaaad the butter on - nice and thick. Or caramel. Ew caramel? Yes caramel, spreeaaad it on - nice and thick.

Then let us sleep, silent or loud. Heat thick upon us, bones aching from the thudding beats. It will be the only way to sleep. The only way we know how.

I am getting desperate.