I can't quite put my finger on it
But everything seems better at night.
The later it gets the better everything
Becomes.
The traffic is least to none,
You can pretty much get to everywhere
you're going.
I can't quite put my finger on it
Even your voice sounds better at night.
Not to say that I don't enjoy it
During the day.
When it's really late it's one of my
favorite places to go.
Most times I walk for hours
Pacing up and down your voice.
Other times I sit back & enjoy,
Reclined and slouched on the bench
of your tongue, the eventual
Sign turns from open to closed.
Until tomorrow night
My wildest dreams are of you
& The building of your face.
Until tomorrow night
The police will rattle around in their brain.
'Who loiters around a closed building
& doesn't steal anything! ? '
They can anticipate me again
tomorrow night & the night after that
too.
When I look up at the stars
The first thing I see are your eyes
The very thing that keeps me coming
back.
Night after night
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem