He’s the one, it’s clear as day
the night is coal with clarity.
Noo…
he’s the one! the bacharach sings
in perfect pitch, my wetted finger
tracing ’round to ring
its beveled
crystal rim

And’s always felt,
I’ve known that tune
without a doubt
yes, that’s the one!
whose melody I’ll draw
into my lungs,
like oxygen

Of screaming teenagers
riding rickety, wooden terror
coasting electric,
rolling rails
metallic squealing,
slings us outward…
plummeting corkscrew
twisted trails

Sinking inky,
ecstatic plunge
black oblivious, abounding abyss
bubbling, buoyant, bouncing, brighter
looming
surface hues of blue
shades of tranquil,
shades of golden

Azure skies unshackle…
my!
centripetally
shanghaied
shallow breath