I design the shade of dark
To colour my prowl
A garish street light chase
Is no dignity of ending
But acceptable when you’re still dry
Dry
Dry at night

The ears to hear you better with
The eyes to see you better with
And my third finger

It’s no surprise to find you here
Because you come back each time
Sitting in that pleather chair
Its cracks drawing country borders that I’m studying the geography of