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.