i like it at midnight
when you walk to your car
and all is quite
the summer haze whispers
like memories of your kiss
kisses on the sofa
on the second floor of an old hotel
with stories that never stop
drinking micro brews and discussing
your weight watcher points
tonight i dream of tanqueray and
making love to you in positions
that never get in the way of your cast
the gentle fold and spindle
there is some curfew i am breaking
and there is the danger that any sound
could be your mom coming down the stairs
the pleasures of gourmet alcohol is fleeting
but the haze makes angels of street lights
putting a halo around each and takes flight
into your warm embrace