:: You Should Join Us for a Bottle of Wine Jonathan Itchon

Just the six or seven of us at the table, And I'm scrounging for pizza crust. Right now it's okay for me to exist. The middle of the night, the room's cleared out, The lights are dim, and as we toast A drop of your warm, purple wine disappears Into the fabric of my pants. Somehow your face is completely new to me And your mixed blood is getting the best of me. And your lament about never having a girl To break your heart gives me motivation To keep toasting and talking In spite of the machismo that surrounds me About sadomasochistic desire and how Dominance should be the reward of a struggle And we both like to be bitten Because the body's a huge g-spot. And you touch my thigh and my arm To verify a guess of 160, And love stinks and people are just out to hurt you And you keep putting your hand on my shoulder In agreement and acknowledgement Because we're both psychology majors And we've learned how people work. Pouring and toasting in camaraderie, Way beyond last call, I carry your backpack up the stairs Into the officially closed restaurant And out into the slippery sidewalks In search of the car that would take us To our homes and our beds. Huddled in the backseat, spinning and turning, Yelling and laughing at the designated driver Turn here! Turn now! We finally plow into your driveway And you begin to leave Placing one foot in the snow. But then you turn back to me, Making a decision, And kiss me on the cheek, hands on my shoulders, The corners of our mouths overlapping, The rough bristle of your upper lip Pressing into my face. Goodnight, man. >>index >>info >>advertisers >>contact