In a hot room surrounded
by incandescent lights
a buzz of the karaoke machine
drowning the sound of your voice.
There's a fuzz to the words you sing.
There's a tv that makes you glow from behind
And when the lights are off, I can only see your lines.
In this hot room, I am engulfed
unaware I join your sonnet
The air that fills my lungs is shared
as the words come for a second,
The chained air connected us.
As soon as I exhale, the moment is over
The lights hurt my eyes, and suddenly
I know for certain it's cold in the room.
Feb 10
Feb 10, 2026 at 3:57 PM UTC
In a hot room surrounded
by incandescent lights
a buzz of the karaoke machine
drowning the sound of your voice.
There's a fuzz to the words you sing.
There's a tv that makes you glow from behind
And when the lights are off, I can only see your lines.
In this hot room, I am engulfed
unaware I join your sonnet
The air that fills my lungs is shared
as the words come for a second,
The chained air connected us.
As soon as I exhale, the moment is over
The lights hurt my eyes, and suddenly
I know for certain it's cold in the room.
This is about a person I was in an on-and-off relationship with for a year, and this is a memory of us sharing the karaoke machine and singing together, but even in that beautiful moment there was always space doubt.
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