Sitting in the dark - you on the couch with your back against quilts I feared you might never see and feel - me half in the floor and half on you, spilling everywhere - I suddenly realized that I'd entirely abandoned all tact and mystery. Seemingly, all that I needed was a podium with gumming lacquer and covered in fifth period graffiti. I wanted to not just be heard (you listen to me unlike anyone ever) but to be unabashedly qualified. While I only hope that you'll forgive my trespasses against secrecy or ambiguity, I don't think I can afford to be misunderstood.