Pleasure Repetition Complex

Pleasure / repetition / parallel thought Wide-eyed, cold-copped scenes of salvation In the empty lot Memory adjacent That rests a quarter mile away I don't think it's shame I won't give it a name You're calling to say you're running late That's okay, I've already been here for days My mind is stuck on you, cross contaminant parade An arresting image that just can't be erased Your name seared onto a screen that mirrors you out on center stage Your image becomes unglued We both flinch - that's the worst I can do