Headlight

Travel spanks my face
and draws nectar from my cheeks.
A plane to a city with leg room
and reading material is pleasing.
Take the sting away from my eyes.
It is always dawn somewhere.
I turn on my fans and the air circulates
according to the laws of Brooklyn.
In each of us there is a little nut cracked
open for shark bothering. All I
need to do is have birthdays, travel, and love.
I would like nothing more than
to see you through me.