As long as...

As long as you're going nowhere, I'm going nowhere
AND WHERE'S THE FUCKING PHONE CHARGER!
What's the matter, babe?
I'M LOOKING FOR THE FUCKING PHONE - Doesn't matter.  Found it.
And we need teabags.
And it's back
To Fallout 4
To Age of Empires II
To Sudoku
To Facebook
To news updates
And it's hot out and besides.  The streets are filled with hate and ignorance that I won't dignify and all the celebrities are dying this Christmas.
"I'm just gonna play Sam Fisher with Shazzmobe."
Cool, my love.
And she writes the days away.
Forgetting all else.
Lost in her arguments, her narratives, her research.
And as long as she's going nowhere, I'm going nowhere
And it's alright.
Somewhere is an ad.
Somewhere is something someone is selling you.
It doesn't fit well sliding inside your mouth and you can't bite it off in desperation or disgust or even delight once it's in.
Somewhere is beyond the feats of Pyrrhus.
Because there's always a somewhere after it
That they'll try and foist upon you.
Somewhere is for the ones who made it
And now no longer know why they're there.
So they go on making money and buying fine and expensive things to be elsewhere
And if they can't find it, they quietly scrabble and claw and yammer for the somewhere they can't have.
But nowhere's right here.
With her lips.
Her full breasts beneath the black tank top.
Her pale knees.
Her laughter that can wake the dead and make the blind see.
The small, fine hairs on her forearm.
Her flashing green eyes.
WE NEED STUFF FOR TONIGHT'S SALAD.
I'll go up.
NO, I'LL COME WITH.
As if I'm a block or more away.
But I'm not.
I'm nowhere.
Where so many of us live with impossible ease and assuredness before the new year rolls around again.

Watching the wheels...