I pine for you
in a severe, predatory sort of way
I wait for those moments when you walk by,
trailing a jetstream of perfume
or sitting in a booth,
on the other side of the diner,
pulling strands of hair away from your face,
Letting the light in, letting me in on the secret
In my dreams I am a streetlight to your dancing
a pool of white in a dark parking lot
an electric flame to your circular flight patterns
Come closer
I would not detain you long
knowing, as I do
that certain creatures cannot sit
too long
in one place
Angels,
even those in khakis,
need air under their wings