Jet black cars are for mourning riders; We took a fancy on the seat of a rusted, dusted, dingy buggy to the opened doors of a catchy beat. Out in the masses where figures collide, our silhouettes on ceilings and feelings kept inside, riding on the rythm of desires we dare not speak, daring to taste the water, to place a palm upon ones' cheek. In the dark chaos of flashing lights and a dizzy disco of lust set to tempo, eyes glance and stare through darkness yearning, neither pair sure or close to the knowing. Closer we dance and faster we race, stomping out the madness of competition, of oppression, of singularity; for hip to hip we are one, and even apart, we are not alone. Don't worry, we all look like fools on strings, but at least our strings have been cut before. Time ticks on with each passing song, every lonely sonata of a searching heart to a yearning mouth; let us count the less lonely around us, and hope that we might later add to their number. Plunging on through tangles of city lights and tipping wheels, holding on to hopeful thoughts, trudging on in painful heels. Streetlights guide us on through time, lighting and darkening a memory behind us. When the toxic arrives it might be too late; the drinkers are already floating. Drifting dizzy on an open path of party, party, party. Tensions dim in boiling water and worries are swollowed in the pit of a near-empty stomach, stomaching enough to remember the pain, letting go of enough to forget all the shame. Lazily, we walk and drift and talk and shift and tip and kiss and fall and miss. Quiet air awakens by uncommital laughter, giggling in melodies undirected, uncomposed, except by some green fairy who sings us the song of easytalk. Curtain calls and costume changes, each man takes his part, trading in a former role for something larger, something deeper, something stronger, something sober. And kiss by kiss the worries fade; self-concious fear evade; interruptions be forgotten as misguided cues and the center light turns green. From the dark hazy gray of a silvery night, into the velvet and after the shine, when first kiss of dawn touches bare shoulders, relaxing we settle and stay; closing our eyes and listening to time through a heartbeat, we come to the end of an evening, and another promise to meet. Sunlight, bright and ominous, hushed us all; I went to sleep in the arms of comfort and woke up in the same, dreamy warmth; and so went the night of the Sabercat Ball. Carrie