hallucinations: thirty six.

when you and i
course together through a night
locked in a sticky embrace
upon your lap,
our hips, bucking and unruly,
tongues tasting only what they can reach,
suddenly the house disappears,
there is no grit, no couch,
there is no money owed,
there is no city burning
beyond the bay windows,
just the streetlight yellowed
leaves of a tree,
brushing and whispering
just as calmed as we.