distance (part thirty-eight)

Balloon nets and champagne,
gold and sparkles,
red matte lips and winged eyeliner
and party favors.

I want you to care.

I want you to look at me
and talk to me
like I'm pretty sure you talk to her.
Someone you've already left.

Just get me home, you goddamn boy.

Loneliness pervaded the only holiday
during the holidays
that I truly take seriously for the holiday's sake anymore.
I tried to get the guy from the train's number but choked;
Tried to make eye contact with Red-Dress-Shirt-And-Black-Vest
on the dancefloor, because he was handsome,
      or at least he was in the party light,
but he had his own group to concentrate on.

So many handsome men,
and I want to fall in love with all of them.
Last year was the closest I got to kissing a stranger--
this year, I don't even want to know his name--
      just how soft his lips are,
      how hungry they seem,
      how his beard stubble feels against my chin,
      how he holds me--are we sitting down?

I have only shared a first kiss with someone while standing
once.
I want you to share a better one with me.

Just once,
just once at least,
let our lips gather in Attraction's name and worship and
pray together.

If that once
happens in one year
at midnight,
I'd be okay with that.

Just--oh, just
make it a good one.

-Dana Winter