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.
Here I am bedding myself for tomorrow is a date with
My beautiful shadow again
Avenues where we no longer pull our hands apart simply because
The black sky would visit us on that day.