20081015 / Night Time

She meets you in the dead of the night
Where the sky and floor join at some place unknown
To carve scriptures in your flesh 
For another to read
If body language were vocal, we would all be in trouble
But at least more comfortable in our own skin
The wrinkles on our tongues
Curves in our laugh lines
The kind of curves that your eyes dive off of
Dangerous, elephant ivory: smooth and glossed over
The sparkle swimming in her iceberg crashing blue irises
Confidence drowns in these pupils
Caves for nostrils
The curve and break slope in her nose resembling your people 
"The chosen ones", all 13.2 million of you
But here you’re the only, 
besides the 300 year old sky scraping oaks 
and sheets of midnight marauders forest green grass, for miles.
The dark night is cut through with hard laughs escaping soft lips
Red as brick
Teeth, cold as bone
Breathe, abrupt like knuckles cracking
Skin lying under thumbnails dug into the point where the thigh meets the hip
She throws her hair back taking all the stars with it
You went to sleep late
Stayed up memorizing her scent,
as thick as burning whicker
Intoxication always induces how quick late nights turn in to early mornings