Blue(s) Asymptote

The night
did that

fit into a 10-ounce plastic cup
hours and ticking minutes like
a clear liquid swirling among ice cubes
filled my throat with ink
ready to be mouthed as
indelible sounds of longing
graffitied on the wall

bent my dreaming into
spatial shapes of
a city I’ve never been in
how they lay themselves down
like a plan along streets
covered in my muse’s footprints
and evolved my pursuit of her
into a pursuit of you

a casual disregarding of the rules
an indulgence in a once-
familiar recklessness
pounding in my blood
synchronizing with
the urgency of your touch
like a ceremonial metronome

put me in the path of
a greedy black hole
devoured all progress of my heart
and lit up future nights
with bootleg copies of my own light
so much so that here I am,
weeks later, still circling back
to reach for a symbol,
a metaphor from your kisses
(I’m really just making up excuses
to play reruns of your kisses),
a potent trigger for desire
in the shade of brown
of your skin on my skin

got me drunk on what’s possible
without even a drop of alcohol
redefined what I’m allowed to want
near me
around me
inside me

made me a witness to that
bold erasure of the music in
the background in favor of
our darker, more visceral beat
as your existence pulled up
into my consciousness grooving
the past like a rhythm
a leitmotif

made me forget the time
made me fall out of line

turned maps into vision boards
and every poem a proof of gravity.

One night
did that.
All that.