The Street Sleeps Heavy

I think
all I'll ever really need
is summer air through the window
of that death trap you call a truck.
It was like the half-moon dipped us in blue
and threw us in there for the hell of it.

All I know I'll long for
is wearing nothing but my favorite jacket,
my legs bent while I rest on front-seat leather,
listening to you talk about politics.

All I don't want to live without
is seeing the cherry of your cigarette glow
and watching you breathe smoke
into the sound little night
I would have been proud to call home.

All I'll ever ask for
is one more chance to inhale you.
Come get me next Friday.
I'll climb the fence again.

I'll step down my street
while it's sleeping -
put nothing between us
but a breath or two;

nothing
in my head
but the smell of you.

Just say the word -
let me taste you
and hear you
and have you
again
with this gifted mouth
that lives on sin.

The street sleeps heavy.
It won't hear us.


~

Age when written: 16