a dark velvet maroon,

[alarik]

reflections of the devil
in an old tea cup long gone cold.

the meeting was business casual
but coincidentaly we're both in our finest suits

wrapped up in words,
we're listening to cursive.

clips of words bounce off the walls
'a devilish smile indeed'
'portrait of wine country'
'a true russian gentleman'

the walls consuming the minutes,
shards of words in a shattered verse

a pause greated by a coy smirk,
and conversation renews.