Where Chairs Bend

Two chairs fronting each other like absent souls while bodies freeze. A "closed sign" thawing unspoken phrases. Walls divide the panels; such silence a night couldn’t hold their hands, not even the delicacy of latte could nudge the tenderness of conquered stars. Here, the beloved and the lover are absorbed in separate worlds, torn by stains of cafe's table. Figures lounging as if the mild taste of a wind pulls the seats' hips through flapping of jays. Flesh meets flesh; mouths lost in wonder. A spine quivers, the other gently circles the errant waist --- chairs bend as one smiles to disarm. There is no other way. Your Favorite Old Poem Contest 1 Feb 2014