I should have been a pair of ragged claws - Underbelly

In the blue tone of light scattering throughout the club, I stood completely still. Enraptured. I was captured by the spoken words of black voices, passionate and articulate, commanding my full attention from the first harshly uttered sentence. I wish I had had the presence of mind to take pictures but I was too busy trying to absorb every single detail that I could.

I had wandered in alone, but you left our friends to check on me. Your arm snaked around me from my right shoulder to rest your hand on my left, large and masculine and safe; glistening gold. I wanted you to know that you were welcome there, touching me in that way that resonates with love and adoration, a simple gesture vibrating the very air around us. My cheek rested against your skin and my lips brushed against your wrist. I sighed, happy and deep. The very picture of simple bliss in the form of two people, not now or ever in a relationship together, still coming together with love.

I can’t express it quite well enough, the happiness thrumming peacefully through my heart. It could have been the fact that my eyes were artificially dilated and I was feeling very happy about everything surrounding me but I felt it deep down in that second just how sublime I feel to have a friend like you, to have the love and affection of someone like you, a wild man with mountain music flowing from your fingers.

I count myself lucky to have you among the characters I keep. I count myself lucky to know so many characters - intelligent hillbillies, country music singers, and washed up artists; poets in waistcoats and dreadheads with fiddles. Glassblowing professors and tall men in beanies, twinky anime angels with a ghetto flavor.
 I love every single hair on every one of these heads. 

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