The brick listened

The wall was perfect.

Green. A little weathered.

The brick nearby loved how

the fading sun gave way

to hanging lanterns swaying gently

on the Indian summer breeze.


I rifled as many memories as I could

and he filtered all but a few,

which wasn’t quite enough.

But it didn’t matter.

Words flowed like a familiar touch.

The empty room listened.


It was like a world unfolded

inside open arms. And it was warm,

a smile we could wear.

And then he laughed

and I watched his eyes watching mine.

We danced -across the table.


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