Microfilm reels spin slow beneath the glow
Waitress pours coffee steam rising low
Dewey decimals sleep in wooden rows
Card catalog breathes where nobody goes
Choir breath finds corners that it knows
Hymnal muscle memory still grows
Stack light trembles on the reading room glass
Diner sign bleeds through decades of dust
Two quiet strangers watch the minutes pass
Neither asks the other why they must
This glow is liturgy this hush is mass
Pie plate rotates under cherry neon
Cherry light paints spines of books unknown
Archive silence holds a different tone
Hum of compressor turning page low drone
My fingers trace a marginal note
Same hand that once held hymnal by rote
Stack light trembles on the reading room glass
Diner sign bleeds through decades of dust
Two quiet strangers watch the minutes pass
Neither asks the other why they must
This glow is liturgy this hush is mass
Flute voice rises from the kitchen vent
Wooden scale descends heaven sent
Cello vibration in the subfloor bent
Violin harmonics where the shelves extend
I sang Te Deum in a vaulted room
Now I hum along with exhaust fume
Stack light trembles on the reading room glass
Diner sign bleeds through decades of dust
Two quiet strangers watch the minutes pass
Neither asks the other why they must
This glow is liturgy this hush is mass
She folds a napkin into perfect squares
I align bookmarks with deliberate care
No words exchanged beneath the fluorescent flares
Just recognition in the borrowed air
Two solitudes that don't need to explain
Why they meet where neon meets the rain
Stack light trembles on the reading room glass
Diner sign bleeds through decades of dust
Two quiet strangers watch the minutes pass
Neither asks the other why they must
This glow is liturgy this hush is mass
Amen hums in vinyl booth and stack
Neon hums through card catalog drawers
Fluorescent psalm on linoleum floors
