eclectic cafe, one week after poetry night

October 1, 2016

(from the tiny poems series)

this time last week,
the room had no echoes.
silence was the night’s
scorned lover
as poetry spilled
through each crack
of the floorboards.

each word painted
the walls with dark hues,
black love,
bright light,

the blues.

this time last week,
we were open
to each other.
wrapped in
a room of endless words,
through sound.

the paint has yet
to peel.