The Rendezvous

The Rendezvous He sat in a yellow chair staring through an open window, staring to the distant west with lights bobbing in a shifting sea of emerging fog, He saw thick black power lines stretching across the trees out back, Stretching and reaching like burned out vines from one tilted tree to the next, Upon which a fast rat scurried, absorbed into the silent darkness of an avocado grove. Pulsating jets fly overhead in the black lusting sky of night and desire, of dancing slowly in the dark, with piano music softly playing on a green stereo, A girl kissing passionately, wearing the threads of dark Damascus, with hair curled and perfume applied, ready for a man’s hungry lips, and a night of electric touches.