The tension in the room is dissipating
As each calloused finger tells its story
Walls are exhaling
Posters are moving
Vibrating air waves wiggling between paint chips
Tipping the water pitcher
Catching the sun
Uprooting the trees
“Blackbird” serves as a landscape for laughter
Chests are being opened
With space to fit another
All the while,
Reclined,
Cradling wood like a toddler
Nothing is full
Consistent
Complete
We’ve never been so satisfied
Hands are moving with the slow lethargic energy
Of unlimited time
I’m being filled with liquid
And baked under the sun
I’m trying to stay dry
Suddenly it’s easy
Sounds are being spread
Fans are used as camouflage
The air is warm
But does not suffocate
It dries me off

The tension in the room is dissipating