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The Neon Balustrade


The hotel room had a bluish glow.
Reflections of a sign board of another's existence.
Infiltrating our rented nights
With an ease of childhood innocence
Or..In a way that only light can.

The first time we saw each other
On a December midnight.
We were both looking out of our windows
Bathed in blue.
Down at the red neon washed Balustrade,
Care went down the streets
As we both stared at the torn jeans
And smoke rings create fantasy ....
Down far below...

Someone played a mouth organ ..
Faint music filled the December air.

The yearning of soaking the red
The euphoric moments of the red
Was washed by the pale blue
Of the infiltrated existence.

I could see it in your eyes
And of mine in the glass

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