,again

Little moments, like flashbacks from a past that warms- a soundtrack of moods, but also of words. Casual clothes, even shabby, even unappealing. A little broom falls from the hands, an arm wraps around a waist, a neck is found.

Autumn in new york
Why does it seem so inviting
Autumn in new york
It spells the thrill of first-nighting

A dance of blue, out of the blue. Deep breathing, gentle swaying, the warmth of proximity, the heat of togetherness.

Dreamers with empty hands
They sigh for exotic lands

A little trip, some eyes-close-looking. See, those four walls are here again and that little two-in-one with a pop-up cd player. There, there is the window, with darkness and a tubelight. Or the moon. A shot of Barcelona tinted whisky, a hasty latch.

Off with my overcoat, off with my glove
I need no overcoat, I'm burning with love!
My heart's on fire, the flame grows higher

Old times revisited in settings anew. Notes fall, like leaves setting a mood. There are stumbles, like before, yet not. There is urgency so unlike the past, there is a calm so unlike the present. Where do lovers go, if not into memory; into a continuity of connection, a permanency of love.

Stars fading but I linger on dear
Still craving your kiss
I'm longin' to linger till dawn dear
Just saying this, yes

. .