Tonight Poem by Hunter James

I let myself be carried away with the sounds of the country night, with the creaks of my floor boards and the orchestra of cicadas out my window. My cigarette smoke reflects orange over the candle, I am in still company with my words as they slowly seep out after being so contained all day. I am in little control of my fate at this point.

This night is special so I let myself recoil in the love I felt for just a moment, it pinnacles at a mutual happiness combined with the dull mood I was in before. The hour is far beyond jazz, I am not jazz. I am only a piano echo now. Tonight I tell the story of my innocence, of light summer literature and adolescent love. Tonight I tell the tale of the transitional point from feeling nothing, to everything to numb.