And so the universe is similar to
that woman at the bar, dressed
in the velvet you cannot define
the color of, because of the gentle curves.
She’s lonely there, but so intrigued
by nighttime’s impermeable veil,
which is spanned above past sundown –
allowing for creative conception?!
But bars at night aren’t smooth places
to be, just as the universe for human folk,
so I linger here where it’s quiet tonight
knowing that if someone willed this
design, its one of utter relationship.
And the hope that we can prevail.