Even the air is melancholy
between two sips another solo flies
with each swoop of the dancing fan,
brushing the sweet piano man
weeps ivory tears over the flickering
a motion a snap *snap*
of skipping hearts another time
for beat changes and beat ranges
to another level in remorse,
dusted and dusty, changing shapes the room
we fall like confetti falling again again
this is love in a single spotlight,
scared and smoky voices fill
our empty glasses of ice.
J.T. Antioho is a student and writer attempting to manage his existence in the southeastern Atlantic summers. He has been published in Rogue Poetry Review. He works every day to create something, anything. When he’s not trying to find words, time is mostly spent growing hot peppers, herbs and spices, and keeping his pup Emerson from destroying them.