Composition with the young things

The conversation started over tea and ended on the rocks. Secrets told and kept and admissions made were the excuse for late arrival, lack of appropriate attire. I was told to wear a primary hue but showed up all grey-and-black, just happy to have found them.

Peaking out of the black-out curtain sundown: a hostess in a floppy hat, a table of snacks, and a Persian rug to dance on. So we swung our legs to old eighties hits, found girls to drink tequila with, cracked the door to let the heat out.

Later with eyes adjusted there was less abstraction, a grid of wall flowers and attention grabbers. A happy birthday and a hug goodbye, we closed the night with clean black lines, colours mixed with nothing.