The Night Watch



	  I.	I stare across the pool and down 
		into your window
		You talk on the phone, turn,
		and pause, pacing the bedroom

		Layers of rain thicken the air,
		the drops bounce and rebound from your roof
		Lightning flicks the sky--
		the clouds glow like will-o-wisps
		that ignite the watery haze, a singeing mirror
		It blurs roof and rain, sky and fire

		Your white tank top glows against the growing dark
		My lust cloys like fever and amnesia



	 II.	Patterned and mottled in the rain, 
		the hills fade, followed by campus, then the stores 
		and their bright signs across the street
		The vents and ducts of your roof blur with the treetops
		until only your window remains--a square of light
		into which I can no longer see clearly
		
		You still beacon to me through two windows
		but fade from sight in slow thunder