Play Layla

Play Layla.

Play like last year,

when it slipped out from under your door

and crawled past black cats

with their tails and tongues curled in contented yawns.

 

Take your time; pick your way through.

I’ll lay here and listen to your endeavors,

over, over, over with a warmth that only comes from copper bronze.

 

Play Layla.

But first, a cigarette

out your window.

Spark a flame over Bed Stuy then let it smolder

for a time before your focus turns to frets again.

 

Pour a drink if it helps

you sound clearer than the amber you fill your glass with.

(Neat. Always neat.)

Sip slow, the sumptuous night

and just

 

Play Layla.

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