Listening to the ***** din of Sin
City streets
inside the concrete weight of dark rooms
the window ajar
to let the outside air in
while chain smoking to the Metro sirens'
soundtrack
of harpies' in heels
clucking and squealing
(laughter as sharp as their stilettos)
this & midnight overshadowing
black rubber tires burning on black boulevards
vehicular collisions'
sounds stalagmite, metallic
crunch
against the hum of sleeping traffic
signals
hollow city like a wide amphitheater
with the occasional Harley motorcycle's
thunder
waking car alarms
a choir of infants' high pitch wailing...
The desert night's sirocco hiss
outside my 2nd floor apt. window
in a dark room
where my silence is a deep listener
and my mind a curious wanderer,
where the walls
not only keep out
but carry every conversation.
in such a cryptic void
a spark is gleaned,
a firefly wisp of an epiphany :
we are not separate
you and I
city and fly
burrow and groundhog
dam and ******
we are unread books in dark rooms
waiting for the absolute truth
we find
in one another
to be known
to be seen
as we recite the past horrors
of loud pains
from a city that strips us numb
our pages open like Window panes
ajar...
no matter how ugly the chapters
we will have known
joy being
held within your hands
the story with you
is also mine /
we are
north & southern
swamp & willow
breath
sultry kiss
Arriving,
humidity on skin
Sweat the nights awake
Until we're dusk
And it drains the sinew
of screaming city
Steaming shadows
shattering length wise
On bright carpets made of morning
Green grass and still
our day yet written
new
Our flight is departing now...
once a firefly in a dark room
a simple story
a night sky full of stories.
each light
our eyes touch
fireflies
in dark rooms...