The midnight hours.. April poetry month number six..

The midnight hours..

I knew when I met her near the sea. She was a dangerous endeavor.

Her wild sea blue eyes and gentle voice, I could see the wild world in eyes and her voice.

She wanted the windows wide open and the lights on when we did our midnight dance.

She adored the Rolling stones music and she demanded everything and wanted more.

We would undress and we would dance for the 3 am moon and stars.

Our bodies tried to find the ancient dances and we didn’t seek kindness.

We wanted pleasure.

She made concessions for me. She had given up on love and she allowed me in.

She saw her herself as used-up and dirty. She believed she was soiled.

I told her often. We live in shit and dirt and we learn to enjoy the taste.

I would whisper quietly to her. Thank you for your friendship and

thank you for your kindness.

She would smile at me and she would tell me.

I need you Johnnie, I like how you look at me.

You look at me with generous eyes and you adore me, as-is.

I love you silky words.

You make my sadness and my betrayal okay.

Dancing Coyote