You just think I am looking at you right in the eye. Eye to eye. It will never happen. I am very good at this. I’m staring at your shoulder. Or I’m looking at your ear. But you think you have my attention. I smile. I agree. I am looking for an exit. Can I get you another drink, no, this is not my house, I cannot imagine owning a house, I am just not that person. I do not want a house. With a garage. And a lawn, oh, he’s outside mowing the lawn in his underpants. Now, I must turn around and face these people and their ugly fucking I hate your eyes, now my head back and my throat. Pulling my hair, your lips on my forehead. On this grass rolling. Like we are the dogs. Come. Judged. A blaze of sun poured from the breathing of the sea where the ponies come to kick like they are hammers and dazzling when photons hit the water in a golden tinge like pee.