Remember way back when, the time when I wouldn’t have existed, but if I had it would have been somewhere dark
Sounds like jazz running down the bar, so deeply soaked into the stained wood that it is the varnish of improv I hear in my sleep.
A darkness that tastes like a cherry nestled in a casing of chocolate that might not be of any quality at all but it’s enough to sting your teeth and make you gasp for water.
That kind of darkness that was discontinued sometime after the sixties, something to do with lead paint and fluorescent lighting. Maybe?
Dark like dark keys, dark against my skin, or the gap in your teeth when you smile across the table.
Remember way back when, the time I stayed out all night and took the subway without getting mugged because we lived in a film and that wasn’t in keeping with the plot. Oh to never have to think about bathroom breaks or assault (unless that would make the story more compelling).
I remember a time when red lipstick danced across my mouth, you know that it doesn’t stay put, not with eyes like yours. They made it with something different back then, something that doesn’t outlast. Good thing too, it’s hell washing that shit off the glasses. The waitstaff appreciate us.
They bring us cocktails and knowing glances.
We wouldn’t have existed yet. But if we did, we would be sitting right here listening to a comedian set someplace disreputable. That’s probably the only place we could be then.
Why is it the only place I wish to be now?
Ah, yes. I remember now. The bar.
Run a finger over it and collect every missed note. You know they missed them on purpose. That’s what lets them in under your skin. That’s what pulls you close.
Gosh Darn Sunlight 