The night came into me,
In its entirety and immorality.
Like death,
Like rain,
Greeted me as an old friend,
Wearing stars that couldn't shine bright enough,
And clouds that couldn't cry loud enough.
The happening of its sky— gapped glowing lilac,
It's vibrations rip through the meadow of my happening.
Breathes were still — mine and hers
Between heaves of storm
And a moment of silence,
Then wind began to blow.