Contact the author: popcultureslut@hotmail.com

There could've been a full moon:
I didn't bother to look up from your face
to check.
But like that man Drake said
it's on its way (like a magic spell)
and it's going to get us.

Maybe it was the caffeine,
or the brown sugar in your cappuccino.
But I don't think it was.

And I wondered what you were thinking.
Maybe you dreamed about tulips and elephants,
or cherry blossoms and Cadillacs-
or the sands of Harbour Island.

But my thoughts were beached along your shores,
like currents airbrushed onto something pretty.
I asked you to stay with me another minute-
I meant another hour.

Those white pillars that framed us
like giant candles
kindled and ignited something;
fingertips pressed against the flesh
and bodies leaning into each other
in the cool night air.

And in that moment where you finally let go
(it was getting late, you said)
it felt like another hour after all.

And as I stood and watched you leave
I saw that you were
the only thing
keeping the night from
fading to
black.

© 2007 Aaron Bayley