Dimly lit, the room holds a flavor
of cigarette smoke.
It's an arena where unconnected
spirits imbibing in a pretense of
swaggering fantasies is
beginning to overflow.
This scene is not a menu for
the epicurean, but rather a
respite for lonely hearts to
dine on chance encounters.
Every weekend night, they
sway to the music, playing
musical chairs; and hoping they
are not left out of the game.
It's the last call for tonight
as the intoxicated souls
begin to fade out of sight.
Aug 17, 2014
Aug 17, 2014 at 6:48 PM UTC
Dimly lit, the room holds a flavor
of cigarette smoke.
It's an arena where unconnected
spirits imbibing in a pretense of
swaggering fantasies is
beginning to overflow.
This scene is not a menu for
the epicurean, but rather a
respite for lonely hearts to
dine on chance encounters.
Every weekend night, they
sway to the music, playing
musical chairs; and hoping they
are not left out of the game.
It's the last call for tonight
as the intoxicated souls
begin to fade out of sight.