A fading fluorescent reads 3:21 AM. Drunken eyes dance, Phantom feelings flash, And muddled, drifting dreams And ringing silence overwhelms all.
The only thing more quantitative than the twinkling stars, Is this everlasting night sky above our heads, This velvet black backdrop in which they are embedded.
And do the stars not shine all the brighter in it? Your light was a seed, my darkness the fertile soil, Our bond, an embrace of unknown and careless proportions. But will happen when our makeshift universe grows dim?
A muted cuckoo clock sings 4:00 AM When shadows can cast without a light. It didn’t stop what came before, And no number of sheep can stop what’s now.