Mac and Cheese

The heat of the Night Sticks to me
air conditioner struggling to please
to ease
the torture of the summer
Bugs scream outside
is it agony or is it my own
that warps the sound
from its usual low hum of life
underlining the night
natures own motor
powered by
fireflies lightning
cicadas rumbling
crickets jumping
I listen closly
the message is clear.

When I go away from you
The world beats dead
Like a slackened drum.
I call out for you against the jutted stars
And shout into the ridges of the wind.
Streets coming fast,
One after the other,
Wedge you away from me,
And the lamps of the city prick my eyes
So that I can no longer see your face.
Why should I leave you,
To wound myself upon the sharp edges of the night?