You're Not Thinking Fourth Dimensionally

Right. There are only three types of people in the world, the poor, the wealthy and everyone in between. For one night though, we could be all three. For one night I could come over and we could eat fruit and smile at one another. We would laugh and try our best to get to know one another. Then what we both desired would manifest in our eyes.
We would sit on the sofa and drink enough to feel comfortable with the bad decisions we are about to make. Then God would step in and George Noory would come on the radio. We would refresh our drinks, turn the lights off and listen, speaking only to comment on the bumper music and to wonder the possibilities of truth during commercials.
George would continue on and on for what would seem like an eternity. The drinks would flow through us until we are surrounded by the warm aura and liberating sense of unselfconsciousness. George would continue on and we would listen and watch one another. I would watch you breath and your walk as you go to the kitchen to refill the drinks time after time. You would watch the veins in my hands and arms bulge as I move and watch me walk as I go to use your bathroom time after time.
The night would pass and George would continue on as I apologize for the stain on your new sofa. The stain of Gin is a lot easier to explain than the stain that would be there had George not come on the radio, so you would forgive. I would offer to pay to have it cleaned and you would pull me toward you with a drunken tug and whisper to me to forget about it. I would want to kiss you and you would have wanted it more, but I wouldn't because George would have just said something scary.
We would continue to drink and George would carry on. The sun would come up and the call in part of the show would start and we would tune out the questions only to listen to the sound of the other one being as nervous as the other is. I would be extremely careful with my drink because I wouldn't want to ruin anything else you own. You would fight off a smile every time you caught me doing so.
The sunrise would complete and George would sign off and I would put my jacket on and thank you for the evening. As I got to your door you would gently grab me and turn me around. That seemingly small event would start a five day kiss that would create as much sweat as it would noise.
I wouldn't have to pretend you are Maria Bello.
I'd be okay if you pretended I was Johnny Knoxville.
Merry Christmas.