This night could be enough if it were October, that month like a promise of sex from a raven-haired phantom, it could be enough if it dared to climb into the dark and soar with an analog shout down the side of the unseen mountain, it could be a good night if it gives me up for the ransom it asked to pay itself, this night, it buys me a shot of tequila and offers me a wick to light, and with that we tumble down the mountain together, me and this cool, silver night, the two of us mercury precipitate and falling like eyelashes as the vibrations around us rumble.

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