just a little night music

it is with a little shyness that i let you in
into the fantasy italian restaurant of my childhood
it's every nook and cranny, possibly re imagined
and shining in the glittering night
the place of tonight's meeting
maybe it's our first date
or maybe we've had that long ago
but
i haven't felt right
i haven't wanted to
and
i'm not saying it's your fault or anything
i'm just telling it like it is
so now
as i'm seeing you
i'm a little afraid
afraid that i'll be mean to you
shut you out
i feel a little frosted up
like i should have kept having sex
like maybe i couldn't anymore if i tried
and i don't really understand why
what has caused me to change like this
and
i'm crying as i type this

this is way too fucking real

nobody wants to hear this stuff

so
enter my psyche at your own risk, i guess


maybe i'll ease into it a bit
by describing the restaurant

the ceiling is a beautiful midnight blue
with twinkle lights
simulating the night sky
so pretty in a simple american way
the walls are painted with murals, i think
but it's like i can't see them
because the place is full of booths
and between them, for privacy, there are trellises
wound through with grape vine and clusters of grapes

we are seated in one of these booths
and it becomes a slightly shadowed romantic spot
wicker chianti bottle candle on the table
the booth becomes leather like the back seat
of some enormous american car
hunter s. thompson is driving across the desert to las vegas

you seem to shimmer slightly
and i'm not sure if you're really there
the booth is now rounded
so i push around towards you
grabbing your knee slightly hysterically
real enough
ok
and i don't know if it's something wrong with me or what
but i immediately
even though i'm frightened and not relaxed enough to be turned on
i want to run my hand up your leg
i want to see what you will do
i want to feel you already

but that's wrong

you are probably a little freaked out
why am i so weird and distant
and
inappropriate behavior is not gonna yield good results

i feel like a little child
i want to fling myself at your chest and cry
but i don't remember being that out of control as a child
i'm gonna have to pull this together
what the hell is wrong with me

i miss you, i say, but i'm feeling a little like a tornado
i might be unpleasant
you look momentarily uncomfortable
and then you lean in and wiggle noses with me

eskimo kisses for the win

i sigh out a big big cloud of tension
and put my head down on the table for a minute
the table cloth is smooth and cool and right now
the table cloth is my friend

the waiter comes over
you order us a big god damn bottle of wine, just like that
we need a big god damn bottle of wine
and maybe you order us an appetizer
fried calamari or bread with an olive tapenade, whatever
i don't really care about the appetizer
i agree we need a god damn huge bottle of wine

even though this is an italian restaurant
let's make this first glass, at least, carrefour 2007 cabernet franc
because i just had that yesterday
and i loved it
would like to share it with you

so i'm drinking on an empty stomach
and it affects me quite quickly

i love you, i say
but maybe it sounds a little like an accusation
crap, i'm such a fucking girl
you open your mouth
i put my finger on your lips

look, don't say anything ok
if you are gonna tell me you love me too
this is probably not the moment to do that
and if you're gonna say something else
i might punch you in the face

you blink at me
god damn your beautiful eyes
i swoon a little internally
and
i drink another glass of wine

i feel like
at least half of what i think is going on is not, really
i feel like i can't get past
not being the one
even if i am, somehow, afterall

but looking back through my writing
the trouble started in october
or november
so
i'm not even sure it has anything to do with you

it might just be the season of death
and
the having to see my mother, like every week

probably you love me
however much you have loved me
which i had thought was increasing
thought had reached a peak
before the thing i still don't understand
and then
it seemed
maybe
to edge up slightly even from there

what i'm saying is
i believe that you love me
but now i'm not feeling it
and
i don't think that's your fault
i'm not saying you should be doing something

i'm saying
i feel like i'm dying inside
and i feel kind of helpless

and here
here is a problem
because i don't know what to have you say

i mean
what could you say to that

damn

this isn't going how i hoped
i really hoped i'd figure out
something you could say
that would make it all better

i really wanted us to end up
having sex in that black and gold bathroom

that's the ending i wanted to write

well
maybe not the ending
in the end i think, maybe
we drive home and kiss in the rain
but
i wanted to write an illicit sex scene in that bathroom