Midnight started going by Night when she turned twenty-five. She was “letting the tides guide.” Getting her chakras aligned. Drinking smoothies. Said it was a New Moon, ‘ya know? A blank slate. A fresh canvas. Said this would make her whole.

Maybe it’ll stick. Maybe this new dawn will be the last. Only Earth knows, of course. But I heard through the grapevine that Daylight’s been saying it’s just a phase.

Between dawn
                             And dusk
This roof space
Is an observatory
                             Of light

Slates fatigued
Squint in midsummer
Cowering
From wavelengths
                             That probe
Illuminating particles
Within shards
Slim and soft
                             Like 6B graphite
Dancing by day
Midst boxes
                             Bound by year
      
I clench a hand
Form a telescope
And peer through the smallest
                                         Aperture within
The translucent part of my body adapts                                  
                                         To absorb all that reflects within

There is a hush
that opens behind the hush,
where breath is no longer
taken in,
but given.

A mouth made
only for receiving—
not food,
not air—
but something finer
than sound.

It happens in the stillness
between moments,
when hope ceases
to lean forward
and simply
arrives.

There,
behind the chest
and deeper still,
are lungs
that do not breathe
until spirit finds them.

They do not swell
for want—
only for wonder.

Somewhere in the unseen,
the Breath of God
hovers.

And the lungs—
those deeper ones—
wait with necks craned
like mystics beneath
an unseen window,
opened only
by grace.

Not every wind is of earth.
Some are shaped
to fill the holy hollows
in a soul made ready—
a mist that sings
without voice,
without name.

And when it comes,
you do not speak.
You expand.

Through the shine of the window
As the sun teases the flesh of her hero,
She stretches upon the mattress,
Annoys him with her lapped kiss
All across the face, begging him to rise.

Here at her bowl,
She wags and waits for his control
As he gets, a scoop full of her favorite yummies,
How she salivates drools with an ache in her tummy
My girl, she devours within moments
And then she sits, waiting for the moment
I submit, those doe eyes looking up at me

We go, the backyard retreat.
She gives her red flying disc
And I throw to the distance, hitting the fence
She runs with a thunderous speed
And we repeat until we both take a tiresome seat
And through her panting and unrelenting breaths
I see her smile and know I am loved,
By my most precious pet.

There is a store in the night
Where you can come in for a stay
And leave without fright

Within this place lays
A dealer whom you can talk
As such is their play;

I remember once I would walk
And ask the dealer for a chocolate bar
During a time where snow was on the sidewalk

They asked for gold bars
I only had a heart on my sleeve,
She waited also outside underneath stars

The dealer noticed my dreams
And handed me my dark light
That would be for my eve

There is a store in the night
That is called Convenience
Where one's wishes become light.

I unfold in adoration of clouds leaves wild flowers  bees
thoughts pass like the shadows of birds
everything gets illuminated revealing a core
the world gets deeper than one thought