devoured again

the evening streets are pinched together
with moments which were once
the consistency of thread.

you turned to me, held your head
just so, at an angle to the night
smiling as though the darkness
might somehow come back at you
in some soft and slurry whisper .

that is how you were.
I watched that same night
bend and break away
the corners of some sharp heart
which lay within myself.

I dare not say
I love you
not ever -
yet

I wrote these verses
only for you. slipping
and sliding things.
a bus thrusting itself
into the sad placenta of toronto
wheeling upon the gritty
abandoned streets
we know so well.

there is an emptiness to winter nights
which only lovers can sense
a silliness, a smiling
which escapes the jealous eye
and hides itself.