Harlem Knight

I found him on a dance floor
Scuffed hardwood
Somewhere in Charlotte
A room of Thirty Something’s
Trying to create their own revolution
Dark lighting
Loud music
Liquor-coated ambiance

I was feeling some kind of way
And hoping it was more Kismet
Than tipsiness

The way he played with words
I yearned to taste them
Or at least the the tongue they rolled off of

This could be dangerous

I’m sure it’s magical
That I conjured him up
“Who are you?” I ask
Regularly
He never answers
Just chuckles
Surely he is momentary
I recognize his lack of moss
Must make the most of the time he doesn’t believe in
Let days bleed together
So I can pack them with memories

Damn I’m feeling this man!

He inspires me to write….. 🙂

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