i'm still sitting on you. body heat is easier. the bathroom exhales five/six people in a cloud of marijuana smoke. my head is a swivel stick, i am the chandelier overhead. i think briefly about making out with you to pass time before remembering i have never been turned on around you, ever. and so we drape on one another.
five minutes pass and a parent has been in and out, leaving a very visible path leading to "what just happened." he said that she said that, oh, well, we were all about to smoke pot outside when her dad saw. snatched up and the weed was gone.
deep inside, the knife hits wooden chopping block and i think, another one bites the dust. you too?
meanwhile she is poised to dispose of her virginity. a male has been selected and is only too eager to drop his pants. his wife beater clings to his mediocre body in anticipation. both of them are on the stairs, one foot out the door. later i learn that he has a small penis.
back up five minutes and slow-mo the most excruciating boredom you have ever encountered. there we were, experiencing the very medieval torture you are imagining. life had been whisked out of our bodies, which were stretched upon every available surface. someone actually falls asleep. i speak repeatedly of leaving but stay seated.
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