In Two Nights
for Crystal Fraser

i
wanted to be
the wick in her wax
to whisper in her ear

ii
out of her mouth
almost slipped a poem
I wanted as much
as I wanted her tongue

iii
I wanted to make your little phone ring
I wanted to light up your numbers

iv
cruel to make stale jokes
about cold Canadian buns,
about bums in winter,
freezing beside the road

with buns bare in bed,
up against each other,
we try to keep warm,
away from the Tropics


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
3:00 a.m. 23/08/07