Brass shining in the light of the rust colored moon.
Polished nicely for this part of the city.
The creeping ink night had just fallen
I slid into the window.
His breath smelled like rotten milk, but the room shone like a gold piece.
My wrapped feet padded across softly on his lush carpet.
Those silk fibers hushed my speedy toes.
'Bastard', my thoughts raged as his stash came into view.
Left laying on his nightstand
A leather purse bulging, with innards of riches.
Gleam of dying embers to my left glistening on my eyes
I extend a shy paw.
Mouth half open, I reached across his bulbous sleeping belly.
Fingers now brushing the soft knots of its pull strings.
A moments hesitation….
Then I’m off.
Tattered skirt careening in the night air
Sack of coins tucked quietly in my bruised and weathered satchel.





*
*
*
Our nights are like the velvet black.
Those confusing times when you can see no light.
no eyes to grasp for grips of glints of orange.
no eyes to guide your stumbling feet
no eyes to give you those sure-footed steps
no eyes to grant to you answers to hushed curiosities.

(Who is that? Where am I going?)
no eyes…
These, are our nights of velvet black.
Our city of copper and steel.
This is our city of velvet black.
I rush past the leaking brick of old buildings
The suspicion of fogged roof tops
Into that velvet black...
My, velvet black
Those gleams and twangs of finer days
Behind me now, but in my pocket...