I draw down a mixture of smoke and wet air
and think about that time, not so long ago
when we danced away the night...and catching your eye as you
walked across the floor.
Sultured, sweet and slurred.
The dance floor, also known as someone's
dining room. And just to think!
I was gonna stay home.
Those times? Good times.
More please. I'll get past my past,
your past
and off to future tense. Nothing weighted.
save my excitement for more to come.
