outside a stranger's house, 3:30

the hum of the evening

                    (you are in

my hair and nails my

       split ends)

 

falls over me. that lamppost dims the fog and

reaches over,

 

(skin complexion unspoken)

wondering of the dawn,

 

(necessarily)

 

if she falls or rises.

Pale,

 

(gauging moments by the hour.)

I do rise,

                   (assured, well-textured dreams)     

restless heat of winter.

 

and it sits,

  (blink, misguided

hands…too much?)

 

frozen water on crushed nicotine outside.

                                   

                                    (or too little? wanting)

my breath is round with vowels,

(more always these)

 

“you, you, you” nothing listening but

                                   (asking inquiring eyes�"glaring,)

 

icy street and taunting window

even when I call out louder but.

  (obvious eyes. am I so)

even so.

      (transparent? pending desire)

 

I’m searching to closedistance

               (needy,

maybe)                        

      rise,

to see her face appear in the dark and

 

            (wishing for your)

smiling calm to melt the morn.

            (gaze to hold me.)