I stood in the outer darkness:
peering into your inner warmth.

I had always longed for your light,
but the yearning crept to crescendo.

Your skin sang like the song bird,
whom has entered through the open window,
and yet as he finds himself temporarily
warm and dry, still knows that
he will make his exit when he pleases.

Oh, how I wanted your gypsy soul,
and how I needed to taste the sweet treason pouring forth from your lips.

Yet, as the last of the light lingered
I silently stole away
safe in the knowledge of the dark.