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 ^{(it's beta!)}

Though it wasn't your first try doing so, it seemed like that misshaped head of yours turned to notice me first noticing you. The attraction shouldn't have been me, everyone else had fixed their eyes to the host band performing. Longing in the expressive-eyed recognition moment, you had discovered me long before I even glanced up from the squat, cushioned seat that was saved for me while I made my way, parting masses to the unventilated misused hole that was the party's fraternal toilet. It was once you set eyes on my memorable face that you studied my movements toward the destination and premeditated the initial stance so I would unintentionally catch your eye with pristine ambiguity but then-

My previously wistful simper would flourish in to a delighted smile that played a similar effect on your scheming lips as well. My eyes broadened to soak in your tall lanky structure and bashfully grinning face, tightened by unsaid delight. It was hard for me to believe you could be standing in front of me as you were, company t-shirt and all. You re-met all of the people surrounding me and I would've done the same, if you hadn't strayed from them in your mission, phase one complete. You had me convinced with eased conversation before someone had arrived to take me from you so I could re-meet others and share the circle of their bounty, hosts calling their entourage. I invited you but you declined, I promised to scope you from this strange slurring swarm of new faces and you replied with disbelief. No night with such familiars could replace what would never be forgotten nor regretted. Nothing could whisper a notice of caution, the abundant aluminum drum whisked me in to bliss and the pit of my stomach tugged at me from behind my naval to settle down to enjoy life and state of being.

Limited time in the backyard, the globular conversation of pure acquaintance couldn't entertain while I would race to cross my mind about the resonating presence upon me.

Swinging around the chatting standing-room, by locked bedrooms and piss holes, I found you outside in the porch doorway with unknown red-headed coworker alongside in similar shirt stained with pizza makings. He seemed to take to me as much as you did, but the way you stepped in between us showed who truly took concern. Half-jokes and innuendos led me to believe that this sleaze could never hold a candle to you or your quick-witted quips, and once he made an apparent move to me, you improvised with white lies. When you said I was your girlfriend, I wasn't taken aback; I merely played the part by allowing your skinny arm around my waist. Knowing well the validity of your words, he refrained and skulked off in pursuit of the opposite sex, I later found him to be quite the pick-up artist, hitting on most of my friends who shared the experience with nervous laughter.

We stood beneath the door frame, two greeters armed with each others venomous sarcasm, spitting the poison whichever way we pleased. We met eccentric characters who wavered in and out of the crowded dwelling that hummed music from thin windows and cracked doors. One of which, by his face, looked nineteen, though he claimed to be fresh from the army and on voyage for night bliss. He mistook our sarcasm for enthusiasm in his drunken stupor, but finally left from us to heat-seek the quota of drunk females.

It was after a stumbling randomite nearby announced his leave as the door swung open to spill soft velvet music from its insides, scarlet with the rose petal sound of melodious violins falling on rocks of heavy bass, when another friend of mine whispered for us to meet in master bedroom for secreted spoils and to not speak a word. At this, the curious inebriated chap reconsidered his exit and staggered along with us, disregarding our pleas to not do so; smiling with fresh zeal for what would await us in this den of kindly acquaintances.

Illustrious spongy lemon cake was served in handfuls and eaten by members of close association, offered by motherly hands preoccupied with shots of tequila. A friend's finger-cut found the new ritual of being sucked dry after a shot, we shook our heads and laughed along. You took yours down too fast. During a lasting glance of my eye, you swallowed a mouthful and looked to me with a distasteful and almost nauseated grimace, forcing the burning sensation down to a stomach filled with previous imbibe bought and consumed with no struggle. I saw as it traveled back, how you tensed and locked your mouth shut as to keep your situation unnoticed. You realized my involvement once I asked if you had done what I assumed you did. You sat before me, tinged with rosy embarrassment, mouth full of bile and booze. Secretly swallowing, you choked down your own rejections and requested den mother of a nearby bathroom, automatically excusing yourself from further questioning.

It was then that I sighed for wonderment of the night ahead, reflecting on freshman past and senior future. I was left with thoughts unthought-of, certain facts with fourteen-year-old mentality and naivety. How would the uncharted path unfold if unplanned and left hanging? It was soon before you faltered back to your seat that I decided shouldn't revisit on past lust, especially if it wouldn't be returned trifold. So once you timidly smiled back at me, I didn't see anything but friendship and simple reconnection of your junior days. Then, I appreciated you as I never did before. You were just 'one of the guys' all of a sudden, it left me abruptly comfortable and grateful. In the eve of my summer, I felt as if I had lived through the entirety by accepting those former years of uncertainty.

By then the familiar faces had filtered out to leave den mother and a much younger man obviously eying the lioness with much yen. There also remained the straggler who had followed us in but we didn't notice him until some time later. We allowed them time alone by venturing in to the kitchen, for you to heat up processed meat found in the fridge as if it would keep your stomach still. It seemed as if you cooked the entire package according to the time it took to become the slightest bit edible. I didn't mind however, the revelry resounded from every room, and we had simply brought the kitchen in to the action. Many people crossed our figurative path, leaning on cabinets and joining in our open conversations. You had acquired in that time, a forty ounce bottle and you had about half finished by the time your meal was ready. Sharing to everyone around, offering at least, I had taken one graciously but after about two bites my stomach constricted, pleading for starving kindness, still attempting the digestion of previous drink. I made noble attempts at clever banter when I joked about only thirty minutes earlier; you admitted my company in the degradation with half-smile seconded by a soft sigh through downward nostrils.

You chuckled to spite it, and continued with food and drink shadowed by mouthful babbles about the refrigerator magnets with clinging pictures of cheerful girls in a backdrop of pure lavender, their hoop earrings glinting gold with camera flash. I snickered as you plucked it from magnetic vine to examine pearly whites in cleavage-bearing plum tops, matching velvet ribbons in tousled brown hair. It wasn't hard to presume though concealed in the frame of the picture that they were corresponding in skirts of similar toned mauve or lilac as well.

The similar outlook proved the proud faces of these purple graduates, and you asked around for them throughout the night, a crusted surface smiling; after their features grew crumpled with touch, and then blotched on the hopeless sleeper invading the bed of the hostess. That same adherent prattler who had stuck on, passed clean out with certain qualm. Sought beginnings in pose with a plastic baby, but shortly became the victim of food and bible decorations. People swarmed to survey or to practice their own temperate vengeance; a lone discarded cigarette between inanimate lips secured in serene slumber. Developed litter outlining his limp frame, sprawling out from where he lay latent. Instead of sticking by to he as he did us, we seek quiet in the middle of the cleared living-room stage only instruments lean, attached to their amps against an amply-stuffed couch set. So we begin to sit in; a screen before us to blind some time away.

We control the sound in the pitch of our atmosphere, the shriek of false guitar-pressing, red button far from right. The anti-song morphs forth in form, a stumble so segmented with no connection clarity, none for ear-kind.

So off now, coarse we cross!

Sneaking slices of each others snickering sarcasm to juggle inward-sugaring glares, ill-gotten stares mimicked in general gesture, bittersweet to beat!

Across the street we sweep our feet and find ourselves at a hillside pit hidden by an illusion. Pausing, we wonder to each other what lies downward? With smiles in comfort we continue down, now slipping on a nature-slide of loose dirt at steep angle.

Now comes the crossroads, where split decision concludes the path we take and forever knows the way. A vertical-length fence blocks what we must climb to see, and only with your help I can discover.

Ah! What shimmering trophy! How honest a thing to see in such fermented sight!

Now the pit becomes a private pool of middle-class worldly prize. You question this, unsure of my intent, while I sway knowingly.

As I start to climb, you falter for a second. By this time you've begun the 'most punk rock thing you've ever done' Oh, I enjoy the temporary label and titter with its meaning to me. Simple reverie in seeing the shimmering water inviting us in with the moon! It had been my initiative the whole summer to swim and fate had known this had known this all too well. What shame would there be in shedding the layers? No dreary state held me in vices, this was me and I do live in my creation. Under-layers remain, and prevents the vulnerability that comes with the simplicity of nothingness.

This waterhole in the distance, which I would've concluded to be a mirage; it was at my feet, welcoming and winking with vacant sways. Pool lights give a certain quality of safety, nothing awaiting in the depths of chlorine treated waters, no hidden monsters trained in security. We must keep splashing to a minimum. We must quiet our laughter.

Who knows what humans lurk inside the darkened house that claims this pool as its own property. Excitement and adrenaline can dance inside us as we float along the contained fluid. Our words can remain hushed and still remain as meaningful as if shouted from twin peaks. Smiles and glances, we swim around in circles. Around each other in circles. Not wondering what is to come, just breathing and living in the moments that are blessed by the water that holds us. We frolic quietly, jovial with the celebration above from which we stumbled away. How did our sense of adventure come to be so sporadically?

One knows the answer while you grab for guesses. Nothing, everything simultaneous in thought remains within the matter- the molecules of our human forms. No water in the world is as holy as this water, or so we believe. Our faith has not wandered. Our hopes have been harnessed. Our constant heart beats drive us through these joyous times.

Feeling the water, and being the water we strive to connect.

We speak soft and sly. Our sarcasm still knows no boundaries even in this contained rectangle of purity. Snickering we swim back-and-forth, speaking through our perceptions of life as it is. We curse the corruptions, temporarily shoo the responsibilities that plague us, joke through narrow eyes aimed at each other.

How horrible this world has become. Yet, here we are enjoying our time on the very Earth that we snub. Governed by power-mongers, owned by circumstance we savor the freedom that has its limitations. We take advantage of this time together, meeting our minds and slandering our superiors. This life we have made for ourselves cannot be returned in this condition. I wouldn't have it any other way.