A letter and a city

“If I go any further I’m to shit myself,” I say very loud to my friends and strangers.
Behind a supermarket on a main street anyone could have seen me doing it. I forget to wipe when I start reading what I was going to wipe with.
“You need never fear your eyes are cold, they are full of a million things. You look like you have a hundred stories to…”
I’m scanning and I stumble to the next bar.
“I think about you and I dribble bits of pre-cum,” is my opening line to my gathered friends (and strangers). The enquiries are made and I read on.
“Even your nose has it’s own perfect details, a slight curve, little freckles,”
“Wow.”
“Pathetic."
We’re laughing. The nose thing reminds me of Sal, the ex-girlfriend.
“Your breasts are firm and beautiful, your fingers are slender and strong,”
One of Sal’s things was about my hands.
“Christ, this is fucking shit,” I spit everywhere. Applause arrives after some lines.
I remember a vision of Sal when the line “after you kissed me the first time with your mum in the other room,” and with laughter I skip to the end.
Obviously it’s my fucking name right there.
I didn’t wipe my arse in the end. What happened to this letter?
And someone snatches it off me and everyone laughs again, so fucking hard.
“Fuck you, cunts,” I stand up, “you’re the shit of the earth,” and then I fuck off.