Riley

Your smile tells me prance, sat here in the lee, the fear of being danced , voices raise smart chit chat, all its ever been, places filled with chancers catch the gaze of nuance this is not new me, him with his faded flowers, he holds my hand and asks, is it lemonade or tea that keeps me balanced, behind him bean counters, point out rooms to party, smoke and look around, others drink from flasks, watch as i suffer quickly, just forget the past, can we go gome quietly ?