Twisting through the midnight streets, we meander,
Touching any hope floating by.
The shadow of a tree makes me
pause. My eyes lean in and when they wrap themselves
around the little sunset globes, I cry.
I hate oranges.
Look, there are plastic stars resting on all the fences;
I wrestle them.
I lose and I sigh.
Black cats yowl, the yellow, hollow
O's of their eyes pulling me into the darkness.
I take a step back.
I'm on the outside now. I can taste it.
I'm walking alone, a single solider,
leading but not the leader,
but it's alright.
The pen is poised, impatient for inspiration to strike.
All You Can Think bed black cats body heat books bruises bullshit coffee comebacks constellations cowboys dancing darkness dick dream drunk eyes fire flowers freak heartbeats holes Hope kiss kisses laughter lick lips Love and Other Ghosts midnight mirror mirror naughty numbers on the shelf outsider owls pearls pedicures piano pride reflection relfection secrets shadow skies skin skull smile smoking sparrows stars stones strangers strawberries Stupid Girl sunglasses sunsets Temper Temper the Blues the lemon tree tongue ugly velvet waiting whistling wine winter wishing Word Poodles