Wild As The Night
Starlight catches in pincer pose,
unkempt: a radiant, brown-eyed laughter,
drawn in by the wine stain lipstick
and kept there crisp as dress shirt folds,
sewn linework in suit jacket tailors.
Let's cheer to rafter planks, fiery
filling basement rooms with turbine
tempest of being foolishly young,
arms wrapping in hurricane bleats,
trying out some signal smoke for flair.
Shine on, you, Chilean bike spokes,
glacier crest waves and all
free-dancing wishbones unbroken,
never be so bound up by wishes,
weighted by suit-coated men who could only
draw something wild as you were.
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