Member-only story
Hold on.
A poem about waiting.
Hold on, before we fall in love, can we party a little? Can I get dressed up and meet you there? Can I get a hotel room and not give you the key?
Hold on, I don’t really want to have to be sweet yet.
I don’t think I just want that side of you, either.
I don’t think I need to stop flirting with other people just yet.
Hold on, I think I wanna roll but only if you’re there.
Hold on, I don’t really want to be sweet yet. I want to wear tight jeans and heels a bit longer (but only if you’re there).
Wait, this feels easy.
I want to love you but I don’t want you to know just yet.
Why don’t you buy me a drink? Maybe I’ll disappear for a while and you’ll wonder where I’m off to.
I already know what’s on Netflix and I already know what’s on the news.
I already know.
Can we turn off our phones or, better yet, leave them at the hotel? I just have the key in my bra. I still get in everywhere for free. I still get drinks for free. I’ve been told my sweat tastes good.
I’m sure we will have time to be sweet and romantic and tired.
Later.
Hold on, don’t you want to see if there’s a better party somewhere else?
Hold on, don’t you want to visit me? Don’t I want to visit you?
You tell me, do I want to visit you?
