Lord of tunnels, I am free,
outside. A new man,
no longer in my dark period

of burning stalactites.
I fall in step beside her,
briefly desire to be back

inside, maybe after dinner.
Tonight, rain could mean
moist embers. Of course,

following good cognac
and a buttery dessert.
The black-leather love

she points at me excites
a deep urge to unholster
my shovel filled with volition.