and when the night comes
who do you become
where are you called
and what craves in the still?
the lunar-nescence pulls
and strips across the sky call for embrace
a gasp and a telling.
god waits for your questions and amazement,
and slowly sips on a glass of wine,
knitting winter's wares.
boxes blare blue to keep us quiet
and the wood pulses with night eyes
hungry and hidden
the mind will draw pictures for you
until you understand
and here i lie waiting, restless
your smell no longer lingers
memories blur
and the waiting worthy
navy dampens the sheets
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