Sun sets on the senses and the sherry sits snug in its churning home,
stirring my hunger for the night which rests like glass above me.
Its onyx cocoon pries my soul from the panoply of my mind,
which casts off the responsibilities of the day.
The sticky heat and musky sweat of the frantic musicians
coat the room with a love too violent for fairy tales as the horns scream sweet triumph
and announce the coming of the king who twists my aching heartstrings.
I grasp your waist and close my eyes as the blood inside me seethes
and fuels my heart with a phoenix passion,
rising up to scream a song long forgotten.
Do you remember our midnight ramblings?
Talking fast and loving hard.
Do you remember our sunset wailings? And
making love in the sand like two beached mermaids hungry for mortality.
I sit in simmering triumph as the first fractured light of day
shapes the contours of your hair and kisses its gentle periphery
with gentle hints of morning.
The moon has gone away to rest for new defense of the raucous night.