One Night

Down one hundred nameless streets

I walked, past curtains drawn,

facades impassive, dogs at random

intervals barking asynchronously,

one clacking rhythm upon another,

my shadow shorter, longer, shorter,

longer lamp to lamp until I came to you.

I spied your eyes behind your hair

through Venetian blinds

you deflected on my approach.

You were not afraid.

I was drawn to your window

after such a walk on such a night.

You turned and showed me

the curve of your back

and waist and hips — a cello –

and the delicate scrolling of your neck.

I entered your house for the first time

and discovered everything

as it had been dreamed the day before.

I rested my left hand on your bare

shoulder and tipped you back easy

between my legs and played you

with my horsehair bow.

These are my strings you sound,

you whispered, this is the song

of my heart. I know, I replied,

it was written on my skin,

it pulses in my wrists,

it echoes in my hollow chest,

it is the rattling

of my very bones.

[Via http://raysharp.wordpress.com]

• The Dallas Morning News pulls down the wall