2006-06-21
Night Life
Wrap your arms around to protect from the cold.
Collapse on the soft summer green,
Ignite a cigarette, inhale as you look up:
no stars yet, does Summer not allow competition?
A short breeze brings you back, helping the leaves gossip.
Cold air chills to marrow, raises skin.
A deep breath accompanies thoughts of melancholy-
You'll have to go back in soon, return to days.
Smile though, because you have never felt so alive.