They
come in the night,
gray and heavy as languid seals.
They
have eyelashes.
They
make gestures.
They
dismount
and
hold your hair like reins.
Their horses watch
from
the door
and
they ride your breath
like
a wave.
They
come in the night,
fall and dance
like marionettes.
Their kisses are hard,
their beard stubble scratches.
They
have eyelashes.
They have gestures.
Hey kiddo.
They are dulcet-toned.
They
come in the night
after prayers.