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There are rooms within rooms, walls behind walls. You find yourself laughing at nothing at all. She’s a snowflake falling, she melts on your tongue, reminds you of stories from when you were young.
You’re a shadow of yourself, you can’t keep still. You find yourself wanting, you make yourself ill. She’s a force of nature, always gets her way. The devil’s in the doubles at the Second Chance Cafe.
Tumbling, tumbling, falling awake from a dream within a drama within a life of mistakes. She’s the penny in your pocket, the tonic to your gin. She pins you to a table saying “Come on let me in.”
It’s not the colour of your money, it’s the cut of your jib, the fire in your belly, the ink in your nib. Drifting, you’re drifting, she calls when she calls - you find yourself laughing at nothing at all.