There could be thousands of people in the crowd, but like a pile of hundreds and thousands I pick out the blue ones only
Your slight half smile finishes off my teeth flashing grin
Your glisten in your eye passes mine wide open
Pupils enlarged in an environment of sweet tacky tasting possibilities
The movements are unwinding as weeks stresses are rolled out into grinds, bops and twirls
I dart around the floor flashing empty friendly gazes to eyes that hunger an end to their night
Spilled thoughts empty glasses with shots of slurred truths and sober thoughts, iced with melting memories soon to puddle and be hazed into a forgotten mark
You turn to those you know and force out a chuckle, quick to turn around again and stand your ground
I turn to those I know and comment on the way you hold your glass
Three fingers, one thumb, as if you’re ready to whisk away into the streets before anyone notices
“What?”
They say
“Never-mind..”
I know they wouldn’t understand
Rounded up like a herd of sheep with spotlights glaring in our bloodshot eyes
I swiftly exit and turn to the pillowing comfort of home seemingly done with the night
But surrounded by one, or surrounded by none your smile still finishes mine.
(Artwork: Ignacio Nazabal)