Everything is a little brighter.
It must be the lights.
Your smile, once a blister
with teeth, now waits
for me like a bride in a brothel.
I take my time because I
have learned that time is fluid,
time is friendly to the mingy
and the slapdash. I
think about you when the night
closes in. It closes in about
five minutes. Just time enough to
erase your memory and
squat near the door, a dog in heat,
a dog, tired of its history.