LET ME STAY
by Michael Langston

We kissed and parted late last night;
  I left and walked along my way.
Beneath the cold and dim street lights
  I walked from where I’d wished to stay.

I reached the shadowed parking lot;
  To my dismay my keys were gone!
There’s something there that I forgot.
  I must return; I can’t go on.

When I got back, her door was locked
  Just as I had sadly feared.
But I stood and gently knocked,
  And in the doorway she appeared:

Not clad in jeans as she’d been before,
  No modest, brightly lit up blouse:
A silken, moonlit gown she wore,
  Though not intended to arouse.

Nonetheless my passion grew;
  I took her back into my arms,
And such satin smoothness then I knew!
  I had not the power to resist such charms.

So I asked if I could stay,
  If she would take me to her bed,
But that night I slept…ten miles away.
  “I can’t,” the angel softly said.