time to hide behind chairs

Lets get lost,
between the cracks of those faded cane chairs.

No on will find us.
We'll cease to exist.
When the rays flash on us,
we'll disappear into the brightness.
And befriend the dust if we want to.
Look at each other if we want to.

Maybe some red flowers will get swept in,
by the wind of nervous change.
I reckon we could talk to them.
Fling some incomplete meanings around,
take in a swig of air or two.
Fancy a dance maybe.

Or lets just sit quietly,
blink our eyelashes,
twist our lips together,
inhale a string of smokey lust.
Our eyes will continue to blink,
till they get dry and make raspy noises.

Lets hold our hands together till our fingers fall off,
or lets just hold them till we get warm.
Then the cold will join us,
and then we'll be safe,
safe from each other and warmth.

We'll stay in till the chair decides to stand,
when she gets tired we'll let her sleep.

Then maybe if we want to,
if we can still see each other,
we'll go look for an old mahogany chair,
and stay there for a little while.