Saturday party quickwrite

clear eyes, a sort of haze in the room from the heat, carried away outside through the open window, no screen attached. it opens into the air, the darkness and the orange street lamps. trees and insect sounds. outside there is a full moon, bright and shining, round and white. the air is cool and it comes into the room. inside is us. the dirty carpets and smudges, the bottles and cups, mismatched, covering so many inches of the table, of the counter, of some parts of the floor. it is dark and the music hums, there is not a lot of bass. the song changes and no one notices. there is a sort of haze, a warmth, now flowing outside through the open window on the right. outside there is a soccer field. the grass is green. inside some of us stand, some cheeks ruddy, some as they have always been. some drooping eyes, draping arms. I feel like it is time to go. I go around, touching each one, touching. a light touch, an embrace, warm. we all smile, it is dark. the light is coming from the laptop screen and the moon, the orange lamps outside that shine onto the green grass. I touch, it is warm and solid, and it feels good. I want to get closer, but the touch is fleeting, fleeting and light. it feels good. I like the feeling, of warmth and skin and muscle. I like reaching up, reaching, arms touch the neck for a little bit, cheeks near. the touch is fleeting, and the parting even more so. soon I am outside where it is quiet and hollow and cool. some insect sounds. the moon.