when the stars are splattered across the sky
and the sheets sway like specters with the rhythm of my ceiling fan
i will open my eyes.
my window will open its mouth in a gaping y a w n
and it will invite me into the inky blackness
like a doorman
and i will fall,
but not far-
my feet are waiting to touch down on
the dewy green carpet.
bathed in lamplight
masked with moonlight,
you will stand, propped against a shiny street sign
that catches the quiet glimmer of the night.
you will meet me in the middle
and we are invisible
to the scavengers, the black-ringed thieves.
we will not halt the hush of the cars that pass by
careful not to break the spell of twilight.
instead, you will look me in the eyes
and you will take my hand.
yours is cold;
it is not real.
i ask you about your hometown
and you will not reply
because that will not matter there and then.
with your free hand you will point to venus
and tell me she is nothing compared to my eyes.
mine are hazel, but venus burns a fiery orange, so i'll laugh.
but you will place your hand on the small of my back
and we'll step in time
and we will dance,
one-and-two-and-three-and-one- our music will be the summer breeze
that warms us by day
and chills us when the sun has gone to bed-
the thrum of those ghostly cars,
the lonely crickets that cry out
for someone with whom to spend these fragrant nights.
you will dip me low
so my hair stretches to the sidewalk
the hem of my nightgown brushes my skin.
then you'll pull me up
and i will catch your gaze
for the first time.
your eyes like hickory,
rich as the soil,
but soft as swirls of brown sugar.
i will ask you again-
why and how have you come
and at this hour? i will ask and ask until you come undone.
the music will ebb and flow
until it reaches a boiling point
and your eyes will set themselves alight.
then i will realize
i have not danced with you-
only stardust and fireflies
and the remnants of eventide.
dawn will break-
and i will shatter with it
into a million pieces
because you are gone for good-
no more than a memory.
because across an emerald ocean
somewhere in the heart of a restless city
where the houses wear uniforms
you have forgotten me.
so what i wouldn't give
for another midnight waltz
cloaked in shadow
even if it will burst like a balloon
when sun streams through my curtains
leaving me with pieces
of a dream.