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	<title>the poetry knook :: the poetry of stephen m. james :: indianapolis, indiana &#187; denim</title>
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	<description>the poetry of stephen m. james</description>
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		<title>Stas and Effect</title>
		<link>https://www.tpkpoetry.com/poetry/stas-and-effect/</link>
		<comments>https://www.tpkpoetry.com/poetry/stas-and-effect/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 30 Nov -0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Stephen M. James]]></dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[College]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[denim]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[disappointed]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[girlfriend]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[heart_pounds]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[meticulous]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[night_sky]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[Part I sloshing through leaves leading to darkness unknown, away from the lights of town, beyond stoplights cautioning us we enter into the natural lights, so hot yet so far away. catching ourselves sharing moonlit glances unraveling the stories that have made us &#8212; attract, weighing you and me and school and God? I mean?God [&#8230;]]]></description>
				<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Part I<br />
sloshing through leaves<br />
leading to darkness unknown, away from the lights of town,<br />
beyond stoplights cautioning us we enter into the natural lights,<br />
so hot yet so far away.<br />
catching ourselves sharing moonlit glances<br />
unraveling the stories that have made us &#8212; attract,<br />
weighing you and me and school and God?<br />
I mean?God and school and you and me.<br />
disappointed with our hour&#8217;s return we return to town<br />
kicking sticks and crossing streets.<br />
maybe, if we add more night to our day,<br />
we will add more light to our night.</p>
<p>Part II<br />
sparkling gem&#8211;beset in cotton and denim<br />
I am the meticulous jewel thief?<br />
listen to the tick of the safe?<br />
gradually I reach in to kiss and hold my plunder<br />
protected by laser beams, I beg the precious gem to fall into my open hand.<br />
waiting for her. . . she does.<br />
what now? do I run into this night around us<br />
holding my prize in my bouncing breast pocket?<br />
for my heart pounds with intensity.</p>
<p>Part III<br />
my bent hand brushes your cheek<br />
softly, I paint solace and belonging in your mind.<br />
I do not see your face but know<br />
your vision fades and eyelids fail,<br />
as you nuzzle into my neck<br />
and I hold you, tenderly, under our own night sky.</p>
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