drunk at a party, prose poem
I talk to a girl for twenty minutes but I don't know what she says. My brain drifts around a lot, past all the other girls in the room. I try and hold eye contact, try not to check out her body, but my reaction times are slowed, and I can't estimate how long my looks linger.
We say a lot of stuff like, "yeah I know," "I totally agree" "I feel the same way" and I'm not sure how much of it we mean.
I stand on the crowded porch, sheltered from the pelting rain, smoking a cigarette and breathing over the low roar of the people. I don't know what happened to that girl, or even remember her name. All I can see is a little star right at the tip of my nose, and all I know is just the very edge of a need to cough.
And even though I'm very wet, I can't feel a single drop of rain.
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