Night Poem # 2
Dance in the wooden alley of mirrors.
In the house, there amber stage lights above us.
I am in a purple mumu, day’s heat cooling.
I try to share kisses on the phone
Pack 20 or so words in around the word 'kiss' so as
to seem less vulnerable.
As I am vulnerable very soft
Convulse volcanos explode. Well that’s what we get.
--NYC, summer 2009, some hour in the middle of the night