Goth Night at "The Church"

molding bodies
grading others
skeptically dancing
the only indoor smoking
makes light paths
above our heads,

on the balcony above it all
could "the one" be amoung?

Beating
Pulsating
[that insincere heartbeat]

where are my legs
I hear you tapping
where is the chair
I have not had too much
where are your hands

It's all blacker than my hair

March 1999