Saturday Night. A poem.

Streets afire with love divine
Taking names and stumbling feet
Liquor-fuelled lust surrounds
Like ships that sail on silken sheets

Uproarious dinner conversations
Filled with gentle goodbyes
And enthusiastic hellos
And iPhone intermissions

A cello paints the night
In shades of blue and grey
Pining for the one that flew
Internal circumspection played

Each over-revved car drives by
Panthers stealthy, by light they slept
Reanimated by the sunset lie
To hunt abroad for civil prey

And here I am in bed, alone again
Listening to the many voices
Of Saturday night retreaded
And wondering why I am here by choice

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