You say slow down and I say never but I know it’s just my brain
seated on a barstool ordering diet cokes and pretending they’re vodka sodas.

I imagine myself as I imagine you imagine me to be.
Today a sexpot.
Tomorrow, a free spirit.
And that until I can’t take whimsy without control and revert back to whatever I really am; A creature revealed only after midnight, illuminated by the light of the fridge or the flashing of a blue tv screen.

I don’t know how to quantify this thing. I hate it but need to be it.