do you ever notice,
that in the heat of summer
when the grass is still
and the crickets
sing their
distinct
songs
everything seems eerie?

in a closed room,
behind the white door
where lovers dare
to dream,
there's always
doom lurking
crawling,
waiting to seep
into their skin?

when she looks
lost,
hypnotized
into his
wanderlust
of eyes
she can't help
but wonder,
fear the unknown
that would await
the next day?

how can moments
of growing old,
four bedrooms,
the master suite
two lamps
lit in unison,
a glass of
wine,
silk sheets
turn
into the
darkness
that follows
when those lamps
no longer burn
bright?