You always look good.
As we were watching a slide show
of our decade of glory, the record
started to skip. And
then it skipped
and skipped. We
decided to do
everything (our vinyl hearts mashed
into our lungs).
Which is your
glory decade? Perhaps
it’s the
one in polyester we never want to
lose. Everything you
worked so
hard for. Before
stagnation, I
guess. Back when we
needed to
talk. Yesterday we
tried to shake
things up. Meticulously,
we
studied our optimism charts,
even taping them to the ceiling
and lying down on the floor.
We were so sleepy that we
were almost dreaming.
You
never wake up with sleepy
in your eyes, and your hair,
always mussed, always
perfection. During
the
merger, your eyes
twinkled like a light-
house over a foghorn.
