In this case I am the party foul

A lot of confusion goes on
in a dark room with loud music

Like introduced names and hands extended
and girls with black
thick rimmed glasses

Waiting to be met

A whirlpool of sensuality
splashing water droplets in scattered directions
like so many missed connections
and the sticky floor from a forgotten
red cup

Lying on its side
bleeding out and ignored
Rocking slightly beneath the trample
of desperately sweaty bodies
and syncopated stiletto traffic

Those thick rimmed glasses bouncing up and down
bobbing like buoys
in a sea of smiling faces
and sometimes incoherent stares

From the shore I watched
the dancing white caps
and the floating spectacles seemed to watch me back

But I was not any closer
to knowing the eyes
behind the
lenses.