So many bodies melded by proximity
dancing close but still yet alone.
Bright red insecurity worn on your sleeve
like a nerve laid bare on purpose.
Telling yourself you’ve got it together,
a hurried mantra in stranger’s mirror image.
Sobering up under the beaming fluorescents—
sickly pale but you don’t know why.
It hits like a bullet in the temple
right beside where rationality lingers.
What does that hollow future hold,
and will there be assigned seats?
Not now, not now.
Can’t the revelation wait?