When a long-ago night holds on to life
and won't let go, treat it tenderly.
It still inhales the blue smoke in the room
and exhales invisible sparkling pheromones.
It still feels like squeezed-hot bodies.
Many were in the place that night —
drinking celebrations, sharing highs.
It still sounds like muffled-liquid voices.
Many groups connected in pods —
sounding see-me in a sea of faces.
But for one face it was any night,
but there was that face.
But for one smile the room was dark,
but there was that smile.
It still intoxicates to remember
that her stereo later played Tupelo Honey
as one of them whispered to the other,
Written for The Mag: Mag 153 that inspired with the above photo prompt (AnOther by Charlotte Gainsbourg).