Synapse to synapse: the possibility's thin. I'm dressed up for free drinks and family greetings on your wedding date. The figures in plastic on the wedding cake that I took were so real. And I kept a distance: the complications cloud the postcards and blips through fiberoptics, as the girls with the pigtails were running from little boys wearing bowties their parents bought: "I'll catch you this time!" Crashing through the parlor doors, what was your first reaction? Screaming, drunk, disorderly: I'll tell you mine. You were the one but I can't spit it out when the date's been set. The white routine to be ingested inaccurately.

Let's be passionate, it's not like we'll get another chance to do this. Don't be embarrassed.

And I said, "did you know I missed you?" I miss you.