I could be the leader, the voice, the pale hands wrapped around the microphone. I'll cradle it, singing love songs with you like I really mean them. Later you'll reek of the night, beer and smoke and musty stage light all over you. My name will crash between us like a plane shot out of the sky and I'll say something that tastes like "please." You and I will arrive at sunset and not leave until dawn, as though darkness itself were only a myth, disproved by modernity.
