Natural Mystics

Tonight
There are long walks
on beaches with purple sands,
with no space between our hands,
beneath a dancing moon
planned in this twinkle
in my eye.
Tonight
There is music playing
in that ballroom
in the Havana of old
spinning, as we hold
onto the last little
shreds of goodness
in each other.
We who love the Dance
most of all,
Dance like we will
forget it all
come the dawn.
Tonight
My dear. You.
You write for me
no more letters.
Tonight you choose desire.
Tonight I taste your dreams
straight from your lips.
Tonight you stoke my fire.
We may be the only ones
in a city of atheists
who remember
the names of our Gods.
And as the night runs
to us, it's wedding dress
torn tattered and frayed.
Let us whisper them,
to the darkness and tell it
not to be afraid.
Tonight
my words come for you
from the heavier, truer
things weighing down
my winged soul.
They don't dance forth
from my laughing mouth.
Tonight they come to you
just to get out of the cold.
They don't twirl around my pen
singing snatches of a song
Marvin Gaye never got to sing.
Tonight
My words come to me
with leaden hearts,
like old, lonely things.
They come like old friends
begging for forgiveness
for the hurt they caused.
Tonight
let us shelter them
in the soft spaces
that remain between us.
Let us teach them to sing
in crowded rooms, flushed
with joy, without a care.
Let us treat them as they are
Natural mystics
blowing in the air.