The Room

We sat there in silence
Palms on our chins, elbows on the table
With no tablecloth, vase or flowers,
Surrounded by bare, cracked walls
With spider webs and stains from a careless past;
No paintings to hang, no bookshelves to stack;
Mere bruised egos lying amidst broken glass;
Empty picture-frames that were long since trashed;
Curtain-less windows and latch-less doors,
For there was nothing there to see or hide.
We had locked our selves in our mind's vault -
The only place we knew as ours,
As the world stared in to the empty room, 
Curiously gaping at the pointlessness of it all.

Then as our eyes met, and our arms followed,
We spoke in kisses, your hand clasped in mine.
We unleashed our thoughts, fearfully at first,
Watching them intertwine and colour up the room.

We got up to walk, taking careful steps,

Clearing out the pieces, mopping up the dust,
Painting the walls with promises and plans;
Hanging pictures of our conversation.
There was music too, as I held you close
And we whispered, lest they should hear -
"Let's get some latches now
And bring along some curtains too,
For this is us now and ours to protect;
This room is not theirs to share".