In the glow of distant
lights, in the tangled
mess of all that is
unreachable, I listen
to the shooting stars
I am deafened by the
hum of sad melodies,
I see the half moon
swing in the shadow
of a broken heart, I will
go to places where drunk
poets are wrapped in smoke
and absurd isolation,
where women dance with
painted smiles and blue fire
and call it love, I will go to
places where silence fills
the air with beautiful stories,
I will go where madness
is too afraid to follow …
Clay.M