A Teacup Full of Stories

Its 2am, and the city lights

Shine all the brighter for the darkness,

Backdrop of life moving,

Constant flow of sirens, lights, cars;

Lifeblood of the city somewhere down far

Below, and skyscrapers

Mingling with the stars.

And it is still, and I,

We, are in the pause between

Two heartbeats with our fingers intertwined.

It’s 2am, and half the world’s asleep,

Except, the dancers

And the lovers

And the backstreet dwellers

Crushing cigarettes between the cobbled stones

And laughing at the moment

Before heading home,

Or heading out,

Or heading anywhere at all,

The journeyers and voyagers

Marking progress by the flashing of the street lamps

Going by.

But I,

We, are not going anywhere,

Not tonight, not when we are

Here.

It’s 2am, and I

Can hear the world through the window, but

I, we, are

Somewhere else

Entirely.