Two Street-Lamps In the Night

My words are frail, like the pale souls of the night to light which they seep - tenderly fragile - - as though they may weep if not well received, as though his response may burn - like fire to cloth, into my temple, and his eyes cause such unease. But if only to stay and soak in the charming ways of his lips, then perhaps not too far from the light i may stray, and through the night, in the dim light may we meet in a chased glimpse.