gazing off heady rooftops
at pincushion skies,
buttoned with clouds,
and pierced by Gotham's spires
at the sAw-ToOtH horizon.
oh, on clearer nights,
you blazed through the city,
lighting the stars on fire,
and sowing wild oats
while the moon's gleam dizzied itself,
dancing circles in the beautiful
disarray of your golden curls.
with every bounding step
carpe-ing the whole of the diem,
only to oblige yourself
to the whim of the noctem.
you were my ******(e).
oh, on warmer days,
you took in life at every breath,
then gave back to the world,
expiring something equally elemental-
"air well spent," i'd think,
neither matter nor soul
created or lost, rather,
each enriched by simply
having known the other.