The Night Hours that Go Later than Morning’s Appreciate - Nicholas Viglietti

Been months, or actually,

Damn near the whole summer,

Since we shared vocal space.

Those ladies chatted

With that eternally

Black woman,

Connected grace.

My pale face

Would always make

Me an outsider,

But I had dark

& deep experiences,

Like loose lips,

It gets weirder

When you’re deep inside her.

They shared feelings

& emotion; we laughed

At the things that didn’t matter,

& I can’t say for sure –

Honestly, I never noticed my own scars –

But I heard phrases

That healed the weeping

parts of my heart.

Night hours

Go later than mornings appreciate.

She was genuine,

And her pulse was as true

As kneeling,

Hand clasped hope.

We smiled

And I admitted my immense desire

To sink into the warm,

Exterior,

Hot-tub waters.

We laughed,

Got to the core of our hearts,

And the night ran away –

Further into the dark.

She walked us to the street.

Hugs, love, and dates

For other times

To hang, meet

& get lost in the midnight hour,

Smile streaks.

I don’t know what it is about this life?

The birth, the death, the consistent shatter,

& all the details that get exhausting

Through the in-between,

But I believe perspective is what matters.

My eyes flicker

With malicious purity,

And I grin

with a hungry dog’s drool of fuck-it-up sin...

Those ladies said things that made me believe...

And I don’t think I have much point on this earth,

Aside from living so well, hard & passionately,

That even the Grim Reaper himself,

Sheds one of those grieving tears,

When he steals me from this

Rotting turf.