A Room in Brooklyn

Basking in this affection – unaware.
Everything is silenced, removed.

The car horn symphony,
Their security alarms – ignored,
The slamming of communal doors,
The stomping
feet in empty hallways,
The yelping dog eruption,
The so-called ‘hip hop’ echoing,
The parched entrance
squealing and surrendering,
The piercing speech,
The cupboards and drawers
rattling and wincing shut
The silverware…
scuttling across plates,
The over-ambitious chewing,
The television blaring,
The hyena laughter
springing forth

In an instant, it all dissolves away.

We can't hear it but its still there,
drowned out by our passion consuming.
Lost in this moment, this feeling
overflowing, devouring
encompassing.

This emotion swirls in the air;
clings to the walls, the windows
sealing the crack between the door and floor.
The giggles, the lips smacking, the awakened desires,
the huffing, the sighs, the eventual moans of relief.
These sounds fill the room like gas
Silencing the world beyond