Philly Girl

Can we get really wasted?
like bicycle rides through the city
Anything will do,
as long as you're wasted and you're with me
You're heat is hot
like kerosene.
I tend to immolate whenever we conversate.
Our night creeps up
the street lights sprint
like yellowy stars
in cosmic countdown.
Between hazy glows and dazed illuminations
My eyes wonder and pry
Drunken imaginations
my head
a lewd sty
and stranger still,
You are the silhouette of what
I truly desire
What that is.
I do not know
And until then
let me go
Take another shot
let this night burn slow.

S.M. Faye