, , , , , , ,

So many nights you have seduced me
with your bold lights
and shifting shadows,
how I used to dream
to the rhythm
of your perfect chaos,
the beating of
a billion hearts
out of sync,
the chorus of joy and pain
and the egocentric
sun revolving around the self
and colliding against
one another
on a daily basis
on the street,
how I used to measure my soul
against the grandeur
of your skyline.
So many nights.
How it was never enough
for my heart
to watch you from a distance,
how with or without
reason’s permission
I’d set out to conquer you
with my bare feet
and my empty pockets,
and the insomnia
that was your wife
and my mistress
would find me
standing on the sidewalk
between the hour hands
of danger and dawn
calling out to my muse
that she might emerge
from the depths of
some hotel room window
that spoke to me
and left the light on
like an illicit signal.
So many nights.

I’d close my eyes now
and remember you,
imagine you
playing your sweet tricks
and temptations
for someone else.
For once, I haven’t felt
the need to step away
from where the air
is perfumed by newly
cut grass in the spring
and littered by birdsong
at summertime.
For next to me now,
cradled in pillows
and promises,
is a sleeping, trusting
flame of an innocence,
for whom I would
sacrifice my wants
and surrender my vices
and construct a paper city
to play with
in winter mornings.

I still hear your song,
the song of love
loved and lost.
I sing to him the softer half.

“Magic” by photographer Lisa Holloway


You might also like: