Safety First.
One skates blithley through charmed encounters. All smiles, insincerity oozing so much we're swimming with it, altogether unsure whether and when we're being sarcastic. Oblivious to the slim possibility that that moment is passing you by. One smirks at his own goofiness, and ponders how badly he wants those silly things those pedestrian songs on the radio croon about, and cannot decide if fight or flight is more the mission for the day. Of course I'll be pleasant when (if) you call again. If not mildly weary of more wrist wounds from that heart on my sleeve. Safety first, we tell ourselves.