The street-lamps in measured steps like a beat
flush your face out of the mirror
speeding by the silent car, as divine
as a painting by the Painter supreme should be.
Between the flashing beats in shadows dark
with eyes on the glass I can testify,
tonight the mild luster of your skin
seems more divine than nectar from the stars.
A heady night; the wind is mostly still,
around the silence inside, stiller yet.
Still sitting alone in the empty car
even when you are gone awhile,
I can smell your mellow scent and
I can feel a joyous glow shimmering, in the air.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s