The streetlights are our friends,
and I'm getting to know the grooves of your palm well.
Bathing for mere moments in pools,
of flickering purity.
What we know in the day is shadowed skylines,
alleys darker than the last,
and I am tracing your outline with my eyes.
The longing is out on the sidewalks,
of all restless souls, huddled in doorways,
breathing ash,
and I am focusing on the sound of your footsteps.
The wind bites bitter and it's us in the doorway.
It is our longing like gravity between us,
breathing in your breath leaves
a better taste in my mouth.
And I am tracing your outline with my hands,
but the moon is in the gutter,
and I can't see your face tonight.