Rubber bands snapping in sync, listen to the rhythm created, the pitter pat of a robot heart beat.  That's you, in the corner of the room standing alone with one shoe crossed over the other, you're so cute.  The fireplace blazing behind you, in your sports coat with the rain falling all around but never touching, never breaking the broken chandelier held so high above your angel face.  The crowd morphs and grows and you're hidden from vision, I forget where I am but remember to breathe, packing my bags to leave as the sun begins its dreary climb above the hills surrounding this drowning town and all of its warehouses and ship yards.  Precious, patterns of 1,000 thread count sheets across your body, I trace the lines with indifference, remembering how soft your skin was the day before.  Empty bottles of wine strewn across your bedroom, who were once filled with fake poppies and diamonds and shit from the craft store... and glitter because we're fucking fancy.  I like you this way, free but relaxed, open to suggestion, halfway between sleep and dreaming I'm still laying here next to you as the light breaks through the slats in your window shade.  Practically pressed against the wall, I've got to move, I've got to go, you've got to let me out.  Run away now, come back again if you feel like you'd want to.  I won't wait, but there's still a chance I'll be here wedged between your mattress and the sheets with my legs crossed Indian style reading through your paperbacks and criticizing you for everything I love about you.  Oh and bring tulips - always come back with tulips.