We're talking about our favorite song. Most people never heard of it unless you grew up in a Dominican village or your Hispanic father has a soft spot for 90's bachata. You make another joke. I laugh. This feels nice like sitting back and filling into my own fate as if it were a muffin pan. There's a slight pause but I can hear your lips smack before saying another word. There's no sexual tension but I feel better knowing that your thirsty, even though you haven't excused yourself to get a glass of water yet. Our paths are clinging magnets pushing together and farther apart. When you get your glass of water, I hope that it keeps you thirsty.