Sexting

The unpredictable ellipsis used to turn me on.  Anything open ended felt like a flirtation.  But the ellipsis never resolved and I felt stupid because what I was reading wasn’t what you were sending.  Then I got more into the content and tried to ignore the context, although certain incorrect spellings would kill it for me.  Not always.  I began to like the un-ironic acronym, and the substitution of “u r” for “you are” because it felt urgent.  But a couple of you read the subtext, got under my skin, and knew what to write until I became addicted.  I heard the text message alert or saw the (1) on my Facebook tab and suddenly my skin was hot and my mouth was watering like one of Pavlov’s dogs.  The logical antecedent and zero anaphora became my porn and I couldn’t stop.  Once I got scared because I thought I had lost my phone and I imagined it in a gutter somewhere, getting picked up by someone holding a sign by the freeway, dirty hands scrolling through the passion in your quantifiers, soiling my instagrammed skin with greasy fingerprints.  So I put a code on my phone.  I’m locking that shit up now.

Real life didn’t compare.  How can it?

(Previously titled Aposiopesis)

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