Today today

Watching them.
Watching them together.
Watching them acting like minded, intelligent, self-absorbed, addictive, taking in each other's presence, soaking in each other's presence, swapping presences, unaware.
Unaware of being watched.
Watching them builds up a slow emotion inside, watching them eat lunch, swap lunches, eat lunch, swap back again.
Watching them brings another persona, fitting me nicely, draping her velvetty, itchy drapes over me, heavier than a drape and lighter than silk, still fitting nicely.
They are addictive.
Watching them is addictive, as I, in my consciousness, conjure up their conversings, their laughs, unspoken hate.
Everything unspoken between them is loud, clear. I see it in their faces, the way their lips twitch, the way they don't try to hide the expressions that their eyebrows give away.
I should stop watching them, I say to myself, rolling the words over my tongue. I should stop watching them.
But I need them, just how I don't need them, but still do, I tell outside services.
But the outside services are them.
They wouldn't know.
They don't know.