the man draped in black,
who glimmered with gold,
revealed himself to us completely
but only a half at a time.
his face shone softly, though not quite with warmth
and offered solace when
we had felt we'd lost our way around the cul-de-sac at the end of the block we grew up on.
as he ushered us back to the beds we belonged in
your cheekbones rose to form a grin that
your eyes had held for so long before.
there were slivvers of light that played on your face
and told me your name,
and to this day i cannot figure out
how they reflected so sharply through the cover of night.
a forget-me-not hum swirled on your tounge and entwined with your lips
to mix with the air that was thick with sweat.
my head bowed back for a last moment's glance,
before my eyes were squeezed shut and
the frosted glass of a window melted against my resting cheek,
deepening the tones of pink my fever had began.
i flickered my eyes when we started to move,
and i saw the man who dressed in night
clasp his fingers together and nod his head slowly
while the clouds of dust we left behind, to swell and pulse
clung to his sunday-best and monday's fear.
and though we saw, and maybe even understood
the ships we'd caused to sink ...
a few quick breaths and
a revolving red light were all it took
to whisk us away and smash our heads, once more,
into feather and silk.