something's touching the air- the stale smell of people's thoughts and the strength of a roomful of people exhaling their sour coffee breath into the room in unison, like something orchestrated. i want to strangle everything that's keeping me stuck sitting on this bone-numbing chair. but i wait. patiently. oh, the energy you exert in keeping your word. a small set of bricks in your foundation. i'd rather focus on other portions of you. the eagerness of your tongue probing my lips. reminiscing on what has left me too sore to sit... how hard you had to love me to quiet my pleas.