Wild Nights

How did we get to this strange and wild place
full of love and lust and sweat and fear
music thumping in our hearts like hooves pounding the earth
trample, trample, trampled

Wild nights of the liquid kind
(dancing, singing, slurring, sexing)
crying out into the darkness of the void around us

“Where is our future?” we scream at the stars.

The pungent odor of sex fills four nostrils
skin to skin
breast to breast     painted toe to painted toe

Mouths unite, hungry for the fleshy mirror image

Such a strange and wild place
where we begin to see the strings on the masks of adulthood
and we are angry at being deceived
and desperate to end the cycle of falsehoods

We find solace in the music
and the liquid
and the trampling

of these wild nights.

My Name

Yesterday my name was part of a language I did not know-
unknowable, indescribable, indifferent

Today I know no boundaries of sound or thought
Syllables rolling off tongues of fire and ice
Resounding claps of thunder
on a rainy day.

Tomorrow my name becomes immeasurable
consumed by sounds made not by voices
but gratitude
Sounds of a wood coming to life
after a storm.