we’ll all walk together
out of this room, through that door,
down the well-worn stairs
and out into the twilight
where no one else will notice
that we are still glowing.
No matter what else happens,
we’ll kick through the fallen leaves
just to hear the sounds they make
like all kinds of water running together.
And when the neon glare stops
sneaking around the dark corners
of our favorite streets and goes
back to its usual brilliance,
when talk fades to disappearing
and music is only music again
we will slowly dim, just our eyes
and the teeth of our shy smiles still showing.
We’ll go back to our own places
and finally sleep, smug
with this fierce pleasure of knowing
that soul is just the particular song
we learn to sing, that our lovers
will always be gardens beside us,
blooming the colors we dream best,
graceful as the glitter waves,
the waves bursting on a moonlit beach
just beyond the foot of our beds.
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