It’s late, long past midnight
but not early yet.

There's a faint light in the sky,
On the edge of our atmosphere.

Is it the deep indigo of fading dusk?
The tinted aqua of rising dawn?
The harsh silver of a harvest moon?
The light of stars?
The glow of galaxies?

Superposed in these things
it is intangible, metaphysical.
It illuminates us, washing through
layers of human experience and community.

In the decay of atoms, and beyond the universe.
From The Empyrean, between their times;
Of your body, in your mind,
Sublime.

Streetlights burn the city at dusk,
Indigo sky,
***** lust.

As the sun fell beyond the land,
Two figures waited, hand in hand.

Walking down the line, out of her mind,
Elation afire in the depths of green eyes,
A sardonic smile creasing his lips,
A wicked gentleman waiting for bliss;

Sunlight faded as streetlight bloomed,
They explored the city, just the two.

Love and addiction soaring to new highs,
Like stars ablaze in each other's eyes,
Arms held together, bodies close,
Minds entwined as empathy flowed;

They wandered the city under the cover of dark,
Unafraid of it's depths for it was a paradise lost,
Unready to come out because it held them close,
Feeding their love and caressing their ghosts.

Drink tea in space, listen to the moon baked.
Miracle rising, anandamide climaxing.
Interstellar weather, especially in November.
Night sky indigo, beautiful vertigo.