Drinking to You

She said, “your ears must have been burning because i have been talking about you. i have been thinking about you. i have been drinking to you.”
I said, “i wish you would go away because i have reading to do. i have thinking to do. i have drinking to do… well, okay… well, okay. i don’t have songs of sadness pouring from my broken nose anymore, and everyone is probably better for it. i don’t have dances of infidelity, baby, because i found another way to be important. i am sorry. i just like privacy. i just seek an inner peace. you are not a part of that because god made appalachia. yes, god made the mountains ‘tween us, and i will not fight the reality that brings. because, i am in love now, and we are all smoking outside of sex shops under oven clouds, laughing out loud. ‘hahahaha,’ we are laughing out loud. these things do not surprise me. every day falls asleep the same way. every twilight is giving me the same face. every city is all black and grey. and, all these homeless people? they have homes, but, god, they are alone. oh, my god, they are alone. they are alone.”
Then i said, “my ears have not been burning. it took me four long years of learning to find out what you mean to me, but do not worry. do not worry, because sartre will forgive you for using his copywrighted sickness for your own personal gain. yes, soren will forgive you just like he has forgiven me again and again and again and again.”
“oh, not again.”