Night

Night is not the dark winds
Of a strange mind floating through
Paths you and I wandered together without
Meeting.
Night is the moment when I stop and see the sun go out
of your eyes and the shadow
loom in your pupils
dense with the stench of fear and death.

Night is not the cocoon of dark warmth
Shielding us from the harshness
Of winter swirling around us
Sweeping us into a maelstrom of urgency
Taking us into a world where nothing
Exists except the feel of skin and the bump of bone.

Night is not the vacuum of the moment
Where time stretches into a continuum
Looping around itself in endless reruns
Of what might have beens and what could have beens
Of a parallel existence of regrets and
Returns to forks in paths not taken

Night is when I hide in your arms and breathe
Deeply of you, and feel the sun struggle to make
its presence felt from the other side of the globe
Stridently announcing its return to flare our universe into a light
We did not want to enter
The night is cosy, warm and silent
It bathes us in black forgetfulness
You and I
In the night