Stories Of The Han

The walls shook, music echoed the floor Boys holding hands with boys openly Beautiful faces, sculpted torso, toned arms They leaned on each other, holding hands walking down the corridor I looked at them in envy I wanted to have what they had I missed the feeling of being with a partner exploring new worlds in conspiracy The music pulsed deeply, I lit a cigarette and slowly took in a drag The room was dark and there was an air of danger A quiet storm brewed Feelings of comfort and a flint of joy swam inside To be alone in a den of lovers, free and open shrouded by the night, the shadows, the dark spells This was exactly where I needed to be.