First Date


She was beautiful

With her moon-tipped smile

The manic width

Of an effortless intrigue

He carried

Her slender hand

As they passed

Under the shadow

Of a garish marquee


Beneath the ruinous glow

Of street lights

No stars

In the heavens gleaned

No unprocessed spender

A breathing ossuary

This city

Black snow weeping

False doves uprooted

By hawkish winds

She the only angel

As of yet unfallen

He with so little

To recommend


Writing this was mysterious because it does not feel like my usual muse