You do not see the tremble
Wired beneath my skin and my hallowed hands
As I hover amongst the lost and stolen

I am every gypsy in the wind this night
And every thought crossed
              Blackened alley’s alone

On the night I am found
In the ridges of November;

On the stealth lightning
That hashes my insides
To the autumn fire of years cease
              and tango

‘til eternity's end.