when things
                happen
        on dark and stormy nights
        i curl up alone.
i follow the wild goose track.
        alone, i
        am easily flushed from cover
        and brought down.
on nights like this,
                even ordinary nights,
        the small daylight things can be so cleanly washed away:
a trickling bead of sweat down your bare shoulder
quicksilver eyes and a quicker tongue, a quicker smile
strong hands to hold fast, push hard, grip tight
sunlight, asphalt under waves of heat, painted lines
frustration and victory and bodies moving together
bodies-- sweat-- a quickness, a light knowing touch--
        your life and mine
        swept away by these
                                storms
                                        on dark nights
        when
               things
                        happen.

alone, i decide my fate
        as if my fate were not already dictated in your steady voice.
i, silent, reach for your
                        voice.
alone, i go where you send me, say what you bid me, trust you to lead me.

some nights,
        i stare at the rain
                brought by the storm
        and pray
        to you
        or to any angel who will listen
        for daylight and warmth.
on other nights,
                things
                        happen
                                to me.

Webmaster: PJ Browning