Bats

Dec 8, 1998

He sits with her in a cafe

it's a cool evening

indoors the lights are bright

and near their window

people walk by

perhaps in search of their lives


They chat:

her words, rising like hot steam

crawling like worms up his bones

and his words

untagged keys to hidden locks

hoping to find a match


She talks of yesterdays

he smiles but is pensive

She talks of her dreams

and he's lost

lost somewhere between her lips and her eyes

She laughs, her chest heaving with joy

and her eyes are on fire

But he scarcely hears her


Her words are drowned

but they will return

to flutter over him like hungry bats

when a sleepless night will open its jaws

And she too will be back

silently hovering

just beyond his reach