Here in night air, yes?

    Ah seated outside. Warm air soothes the need for
a dream, a hope. Warm aroma of jasmine intertwining
with cocoa butter. A musky, mysterious scent bursts
forth.

     Loving the gentleness of sensitivity of soul. Ah
come. I beckon one and all to sit with me. Enjoy the
night as I am.

     A let down of braids. Creating the soft waves of
copper. Such a thought comes to mind. A statement
I used to make in my youth. Come feel the texture of
my hair. Yes touch it. I laugh aloud because of the
irony of statement. To hear others say it as well. La.

     Still a need to be vain once right? La yet not of
arrogance. Just of soft joy and confidence of happiness.
The radiance of loving shining through spirit.

     I close my eyes drawing over memories. How easy
they come. How gentle the reminders are. Colors that
spread out. How delicious some views are.
Remaining branded clear in my mind. So yes. Come
sit with me as I lean against a brick wall recalling some
good times.

    Would you, could you find a way to be seated
within a radius of my eyesight? Do you want to be
out here with me? Enjoying the calming of the
night? If you wanted would you be looking up at the
same sky?

    Ah yes a tiny hope. One whisper of time. Still I ask
and maybe you answer. Do I hear? Do I see? Only if
you want me to.

    So here I sit upon concrete and iron stairs looking
out into the night. Beckoning you to come sit with me.
Talk to me or stay quiet and stare. Whatever just
come.

    Just don't make me write in attempt for myself, in
all the glory of vanity. Please I beg of you dear friend.

   Listen with me the insects talking. Absorb the
company once more. Here.    

    Do you want to be here with me? Say so.