Eighth Floor

Sipping wine, Gen and I exchanged news
Talked of having too little time
The band played

Through the pools of patrons he and I passed each other
And hesitated
There's something about him
A touch of recognition showed in his eyes too
Under the light banter
He touched my hands
It claimed us at the same time
We'd been together, yet isolated...
He was the attractive, brooding one
Not all he knew was good
I'd witnessed his unearthing
And had been transfixed by
The clenching and unclenching of his jaw
His hands fists
Bending his head over them
He'd shed tears
Expressing grief over the end of a relationship
My stomach had turned over each word
Big slices of anger burst open
Emotion poured by pails
I'd tried to understand
Tried not to be on edge
Tried not to judge
His anger
I'd left mine to sleep like a bird
Blanketed in a cage
How dare he make me feel this way?
In broken time
We patched the cracks of disorientation

That night in the bar
Intuitively, we'd been drawn to the other
"Eighth floor...Psych!"
Throwing out our arms, we laughed and hugged
Each of us mended
We wished each other well
And farewell.