(Every Bad Girl Knows) Arch Your Back and Point Your Toes

It's storming outside. A decent amount of the city has lost power.

Not us.

Not yet.

The smoke of just-lit matches and initial burnings of all sorts are in the air, anyway.

This is the type of night that I love.

The kind in which I find my chest warm, almost hot, beating,  and I am ready for everything and nothing all at once.

(pause)

I received flowers just over a week ago.

They were beautiful and celebratory.

I am, tonight.

The flowers of tonight are not pink, of course.

Nor are they red

or even invitation yellow.

They are a deep plum,

and have thorns you can't quite see in the dark.

But you can feel them.

Sometimes

it is how I prefer to find my way.

 (image: Arvida Byström via Dark Silence in Suburbia Tumblr)
 (title: bits of a Miguel song I've been listening to, again)