Floods

Sweat–a tickle of a droplet,

a play,

written in dance-floor

whispers from shouts

into the deafening space,

moves floating shoegaze

laughter without matter

 

after seltzers effervescent flood

lights red memories escaping the heads

of clink-clack flutters from picks

and stringed stocks

to flock

a pit no longer staring

equipment, but the brazen

smiles of autumn’s long summer

 

’til the show is over

filling last-call lovers

under trust of pores asunder

rung as lost conundrums

taught on one another.