guitar notes trickling
down the perfect movement,
for the perfect movie,
for the well-timed kiss.
However, gulping in the minutes
toward a disillusioned reality
is inevitable.

This is as much Romanticism
you’ll experience at a bar.
The rest is suffocated by
the breathing down your neck,
the stifling heat vomited by the lights.

The movement of sudden imagination.
The wandering eyes.
The synchronous gaze.

You’re looking over at her.
Is she looking at you?

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