Les Nuits de Paris

Espresso 

for hazy cafe nights

clean black skies

diamonds ringing

Luna's fair crown

Red-lipped women with 

cinnamon-skinned men

toss laughter into the air

delicate fingers and 

leather boots

spin webs across the floor.

The wisdom of ages

passes through lips

kisses from

philosophers

Police sleep deeply

ignorant of the revelry

gagged in their posts

by youths in pursuit

of their rugged dreams

In dens dark and deep

opium smoke flows from

blackened lips

life like milk as

eyes close soft

Harlots laugh with

champagne throats

under lustful gaze

of men her scent

pervades the air.

When pink skies rise

like the youngest breasts

the faeries

tuck in tight

in their homes of leaves

in the arms of lovers

they wait for the comfort

of darkness.