A stab at poetry.

[thatsbecauseiam]

We Have Met on Nights Like This

We have met on nights like this

And filled our mouths with dewy bliss

Where women bathe our feet with tears

And angry sighs

A Brother’s poison fills my ear

And silence groans,

“Not here, not here”

We have met on foggy streets

Decked in stone and silver sheets

Our fingers sputter, jerk, and stall

I almost think

You cannot feel my touch at all

Like music rapping, tapping

Through a wall

We have met beneath the eaves

Bundling up our empty sheaves

With cords of breath and smoke we weave

With careful looks

With all the wordy thoughts conceive

Enough to bear ourselves

And take our leave.