My Love Is Not Black

At night I don’t sing the tunes in blues

And perhaps, you’d think of me most

Being the sentimental sensational lover.

That might be true but tonight is

An ordinary night when I and my shadow

Walk around the Plaza to look for some warm and delectable feasts.

It is night and the sky has spread its cushion

Not for rest but for a graveyard shift

This night with our hands clasping will become

Hands with wings as I deliver the shadow

To his work                  and walk in similarly predictable feet.

Sleeping wouldn’t be without his arms and legs

And abs and chest…if only I am not in a dream state.

But the mouse will check my room, and I am with a steady companion

Not as hard as the night the other time when

We live to love for the day.

But it was only nearly yesterday when I last remember

the day to feel some newly baked bagels and roast chicken, and oh that saucy pasta

without the need for fear.

Now,

Here I am bedding myself for tomorrow is a date with

My beautiful shadow again

down to

Avenues where we no longer pull our hands apart simply because

The black sky would visit us on that day.