[untitled.]

rsvp for ______,

(here’s a hint: your name begins with a consonant. here’s another: we don’t talk.) i invite you to join me at your place, or mine, or anywhere. as long as there’s a party with no one we know, music and something that burns down in my stomach and the inside of my mouth. something to make me less anxious. less dull. less careful. less…just less.

we’ll dance and we’ll dance, and i’ll let you lead, or i can, but don’t expect me to be any good at it. we’ll take a break, i won’t leave your side, and maybe i’ll grab onto your hand so i don’t lose you. i’m really not expecting more. 

i don’t need anything. just you and me.

i’ll be four shots hard liquor deep, but it’ll still be a good time, i promise. six would make it weird, but that’s for the afterparty. when you aren’t around.

we’ll spin until the swallows come home, laughing until the whip-poor-will’s last cry. then, the music will stop. you’ll step back and look at me, really look at me.

then, you’ll leave, and we can go back to not talking, and i can go back to drinking myself to sleep and doing my best not to think about you ever again. unless you decide to switch things up, but i’ve known you for so long i feel like you’re fairly predictable, now. i could always be wrong.

you’re always welcome to surprise me.

so, if you (don’t) want to have a nice evening, get dizzy with me without breaking anything this time, then you know where to find me.

- f. e. celler 

05.21.20