As I ate my sushi, I sat and watched girls dancing, girls laughing, boys drinking, and paying. I looked down and saw the brown and black speckled table tops I have eaten at so many times. Two guitars and dual voices sing a haunting melody at the open mic. My legs are crossed and I set my chopsticks side by side. Fairy tea, exchanges and tips. Chatting about work, and how busy this Wednesday night turned out to be, I wave goodbye as I walk down Commercial Street. A fond farewell. We will see you tomorrow.
Finish my drink, but not before the lid leaks. Rice milk sends me home, to a silent, gentle, song of good nights.