The Sugary Night, the Howling Speed

It's the kind of night the unwinds
frame by frame.
Starts on a deserted street (one not even a stray dog roams)
]in a town too small to name.
WInd has found it, is here, in the canopy
of the trees. It is too dark to see
but we can hear it
in the timpani of leaves,
in the creaking branches.
I am there, you are you.
The darkness is raw at the edges.
Iv'e spent hours trying to stitch it
into five-eighths seams.
I don't know what else to do.
Call it love, this need to tuck-in,
square away, this need for
the sugary night, the howling speed.

via JULIA KLATT SINGER