In an alternate universe.

In a sudden lurch I'm yanked from where I am to somewhere I long to be. Words exchanged, and I'm playing the Cookie Monster chewing my stances and standpoints, swallowing them below yet chewing so carelessly the tell-tale crumbles clings down my front, exposed to the world and I am once again vulnerable.

Songs play and everything is inanimate. I feel like I'm being tricked, the lyrics and the rhythm of other things in play seem suspect. I'm packed into a container of disorientation, fully sober. I imagine us staring up at that damn mistletoe, wondering if we should "act like big city kids now that the sun's gone down"

I really wish could leave unscatched, have these weak proposals bounce off me but I'm not made of rubber.. I am not elastic in perception. My reservations are ideal, if I am willing to keep playing the moving target. Then again if someone wants to shoot me after reading this, I'd be damned.