Every once in a while, these words come back to me. I first wrote them 5 years ago. Now, I try to recapture the first feeling they gave me. But each time, a word is changed, a sentence altered, and I get a new (neither good or bad) experience.
(Title is made up).
Here goes nothing…
This is where we first met
And we haven’t moved.
I sit in the same spot
Watch you play
You have made 118 impressions
I struggle to make the first one
Never understood the allure of playing guitar in the same place and never losing that bright countenance
You leave the instrument a mess with unapologetic strums
Do you set out to capture hearts?
You look the type to free caged birds
A smile fashioned in the Styx River etched in the contours of your face like a diamond in a volcano’s path
Did I just call you a volcano?
I scoff over my glass of cheap wine
Forgive my geocentrics, I’m the one ready to erupt
You stand in the spotlight
Why am I the one who feels exposed?
I wave the waiter over the dying musical note
Put my drink on your tab
When you notice, the spell will break
We’ll be able to leave this last place.