  POETIC JUSTICE Is when ten years on, in a most unexpected place, you run into the boy who was the love-of-your-time-in-Year-2 (before you changed schools and at some point clean forgot him), childhood crush you spent the whole year pretending to hate, and youre wearing your stilettos and that take-me-home-and-fuck-me lace-and-leather skirt and you realize, standing there watching him flusteredly flattered, that youve grown into the power of choosing to lure but not to let him. -- it's like lighting up your last cigarette on the wrong end then wanting to slap yourself silly but then an unexpected thing happens and he comes home with a carton just the way you like it right down to the slims. it's like irritating the shit out of him and singing every verse wrong to every damn song because your brain is fried and your sense of memory is filled with stupid things. it's like begging to play and turning him on because if he watches another episode of tripping the rift, or southpark, or clone high you.are.going.to.scream.
...yet secretly, you watch it from the other computer too(between scrabble games) it's collaborating and producing someone else's baby together. and him and them having not so secret conversations about you. it's just this. midnight on a wednesday night with nothing to do, nothing to say. just doob dee doo. 
