Momentary movement of
locking car doors
alerted someone outside,
eyes wondered
"what did I do?
oh,
I'm black,
---- you....."

Thunder spoke
from the sky
and the Conscienceless
lied
to itself,
a collective
Urban-Decay,
thought we left those old days..

but things changed, didn't they?
Maybe.... no.... yes..... poets say
streets are lined with
hate hidden by daylight
and life, though ill-placed, refined....

and up and down
the city blind-walks,
outwardly correct ones fast talked,
with motivation preen.
Vanity's not clean, not all the time
and knowledge can't hide crime or trash or grime.
Yet, lack of money-flash
could never play down light
like the light that shines from you.
Will you lend me some of you?
Spare
some of your hue?

The contrast to the contradiction-
the madness I can't leave-
is you, an echo treat,
blue ribboned light....
eclipse the fight
just outside our door,

and I couldn't love you more...


copyright 2007 Rose Loya