The Sun,
blood red,
led me to the evening
where on reaching end of day
it lay
tired,
waiting for the night to come and close the doors, but always some would pray for day to stay.

Never me,
I am glad to see the back of it, glad
to rid the day of light and flit
like a bat across the sulking sky
no skulking shadows there to bother me,
no Sun to tan the hide of me, the
night has keys to set me free.

Then
when morning hits me hard
one more
Marquis de Sade,
one more day fed
to feed
the Sun,
blood red
I wait
until
evening comes.