Nocturne

Draw the hour
dark as a bruise

where neon shopfronts
jerk and implore

on-off, arrow-arrow
enter me, like any whore.

On streets of soot and stain
the first brushes of rain

daub jewels and holocausts
through violet exhausts

and the wet deepens like a dream
while souls in stereo

ferry the black and fiery stream.