Night Air

It happened
going up…
the stairs
enjoying the Friday night air
filled with sins
and things aching to happen

Smiles, subtle
aching to melt the chills
between strangers
like the ice in your drink

Emotions, fluttering
like spring butterflies
with the first gust of March pollen
fresh, awake and ready
to float with the cigarette smoke
of the night
higher and higher

Sobriety slipping through
like sand between your fingers
smooth and complying
with every sip
that kisses your lips
the more time tics
the wider the gap gets
the more your sober self
gives space
to your other self

Stares and glares
vibes and flares
fly within
sparkle eyes
and churn hearts
only those who enjoy
the night air
feel them
see them
submit to the dark magic
as it conjures lovers
plays matchmaker
and triggers courage
the kind that strips
all your layers
and exposes your
core

 

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