The sky is filled in
frothy cloud.
But so much clearer the empty sky.
I remember the days
when words were personal cancers
and this old building smelled
of sex and cigarettes.
Everyday meant a knock.
Silence makes the heart grow
fonder, not
absence.
Agitation of hands. Strength of words. 
Ben, this is awesome.
Awesome, Awesome, Awesome.
🙂
Thank you.
It’s about a real room, part of it.
It’s about a real feeling, part of it.