I would write a poem or something, but truly I'm defeated. for Now, I'll leave it at this:
Sitting on the cold tile.
listening the the bass of the music and the bass of bodies,
Clambered together
so temperamental.
so clustered.
Sweat, pinched feet, sadness tucked into purses.
perfume and sweat.
But I'm the only one dancing to defeat.
crying on the bathroom floor.
Door locked.
Knees locked.
Stand up.
Wipe up.
Time up.
Last song.
Get out.
There.
Bodies dropped bass.
Salt dropped and pooled.
Preference 2014.
-sarah
xxoxoo
I'll always know what you actually meant.
