Al Green is playing in the hotel lobby
and i remember being 6 years old,
singing along to him
in the back seat of my mother's car-
she loved him-
she never really listened to much music (from what I can remember)
but she loved him.
there was hardly any sunlight that came through her bedroom window,
a stark darkness
i would listen to Al Green's record
while staring out the window
through the half drawn curtain.
it was white.
her walls were bare.
there was always nothing there.
i would hold my breath in between the pauses of each song,
always smiling in great gasps when the next one started.