"The Nighttime Alive"
By

    Subtle, those sounds,
    of the nighttime alive.
    Curtain flutters, window shutters, wind
    slinks through a wire screen and the
    street lights twinkle, bright.

    They smile. Slender fingers wound
    tightly around his arm,
    sweatered and buttoned and scarred.
    They count their steps.
    Tiptoeing through tense
    tree root-ravaged cement
    in slowed time
    to the warped rhythm of the nighttime alive.

    And each leaf sways to that
    penetrating hum. Windy thumbs
    bend branches, tango
    with twig and vein.

    That rustle,
    quick, hushed,
    tangling her silken strands,
    strangling her heart-

    as his blood sings the song
    of the nighttime alive.

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