She speaks in night words…
...And she talks on like a book of lists,
artful, swift, everything changes
becoming other things,
something not and still again other,
and me I'm thinking a hundred songs,
her words a chant setting cadence and rhythm
to all the crazy jingles bouncing in my head.
Then I am found gazing, looking into the
darkening red shadows on the lines in her lips,
in the black silk tease wrapped around her waist,
the sweat and the shape, there's no escape,
sloe eyed wink, a look away,
oh go away, and I cannot,
I am held, caught in the act,
and it all comes around...like this:
even the stars desire her,
so who am I but a wink and a smile?
