you’re at a friend’s party.

you see someone.
you notice someone.

their eyes,
their hair.
you can’t avoid noticing:
their wit,

somewhere along…
they become more than wit and style wrapped up in an acceptably attractive package.
They are a person,

but then.
when the physical world ceases to deliver,
one may perpetuate
as an entry in your address book

and it’s completely amazing how much drama one can glean from a text message or two if one wants to.

Yet, even still, there’s something just delicious about doing whatever you want.

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