how you snicker
at my fears and flaws
and dark-eyed fenestrations.
radio static
so automatic
are my sticks and stones
and city-boy stipulations
but you see me through the night
with transmittal of sound and light
informing me everything might be right
or at least not every day will be the same
a drip and a drop
of your calm electricity
between the the tock of today
and the tick of midnight
