I am cupped by smoldering darkness:
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crisp blue shaddows cut from technological light
merely sharpen the raw edges of an ink-mute night.
Jaw askance, and teething on your distance,
I rest my head against a padded velvet; late evening,
gentle mawed, mouths me, mocks and preens me.
Pale hand, cradling an unlit cigarette,
lies dormant at my side: loitering and dumb,
a false pearl layed on a black oysters tongue.
You have not called
with words which will not run.
"All the darkness in the world
cannot put out the light
of one candle"