The light is muted, and how I love it
As it drapes itself atop the features of this room
clinging to chairs,
to belongings strewn about,
as reluctant to move as I.
Neither boredom nor bedlam could compel me to leave --
the streets of this city I’ve known far too long,
though none could compare to the one I call home.
You close the door behind you
no questions nor answers,
you know how I work.
In lieu of conversation, we’ll speak wordlessly for hours
You’ll tap out a rhythm on your keyboard,
I’ll harmonize in thought.
when we have everything?)