On the avenues as night falls And as crowds jostle and seek entry Into smoky night clubs, theatres, stores, And countless signs blink, amputated neon eyes, Now opening, now closing, now opening again,

Over the long reflections of shadow and light Caught in the long mirrors that roads become After evening rain, a man is walking. His heart is pinned over his shirt, as if it were The first bloody medal he was awarded

For unflinchingly taking the wounds of love And loss. He is walking, beyond the city limits, Beyond the suburbs, beyond the railroad tracks, To a place where the sun and moon are her immense eyes Of black pearl, and the monsoon clouds her loosened hair.

He is walking to his final battlefield: Layla, Her body, an unmarked grave of fallen men.

This reminds me of The Great Gatsby. Remember the billboard with the eyes? Just like the neon signs. And I like Layla as Daisy, it brings her down to earth, but was that even the intention. Maybe just my stubborn reading of imperfect love into freakin' everything :)