Reclining in a tired brown corduroy chair
Savoring each fizzy sip
Reveling in the shadows
Of dimmest amber luminescence
Nestled in a blanket of low chatter
Cuddling with the entrancing strains
Emanating from a modest stage
Flanked by tattered cascades of red velvet
Thinking in lively wishes
Processing as might a calculator
Inhaling the rich atmosphere
Exhaling insight and acceptance
Reading the unsaid
And reciting the unwritten
I think I may have found
My happy place
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