Round and round I go,
where I stop, only she knows
, the click of the text like t
hat of a Geiger counter,
telling me how close
I'm getting,
yet not yet where
I'll end up,
like a blind man's
cane
feeling my way through
a dark, dark world
with the desperate hope
that it all turns out
best
when I get there,
in my head a vision
of her,
not the streets I stumble over,
me drunk even before
my first sip,
drunk on this image of her in my head,
the lips I ache to kiss,
those tight hips
attached
to those long legs,
the clicking growing stronger,
louder, firmer, more
positive
with each precarious step.
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