We walked along route seventy-three, a
little past two o'clock in the morning.
The lamps and billboards gave a gleaming light,
and you shined like a newly polished dime.

Bushmills ran through my bloodstream, spreading warmth
out to the tips of my fingers and toes.
We danced under the streetlights, giggling
like school kids (which I guess is what we were).

We laid down in the traffic island grass,
and looked up the night-sky, black as coal.
I felt an unmatched sense of affection,
as two pulses synced up beneath the stars.

Closer than my jugular vein, you flow
through sacred passages until you reach
the part of me where everything resides.

You tap into my nerves. My firmament
gives way to you, and I melt into your
depths, the one place where I can feel secure.

I mediate on you, and I can feel
your warmth radiate through me, until we're
glowing like embers on a wind-chilled night.

We make a pretty good team, you and I.
Let's stay together a while longer,
just until I can get back on my feet.

Hold me close, in your smothering embrace;
I'll wash my hands in you, and be absolved.