I think I'm the only one
stuck here like this,
unlike anyone!
It may seem like sometimes
I am the Rock!
& not even Fire can hurt me.
But like everyone
Every night, I look above,
for the spark of miracle
wishing the world to be better.

vibrancy emits amongst the echoes of the night
as slumber casts itself on most these hours, absent light
while some lack productivity, with efforts turned to ruin
my product of activities proves grand by starry lumen
ideas are born, regrets are mourned, and midnight snacks consumed
to moonlit ante meridiem: my fondness, ever true.

Your crescent moon shape
fits so seamless around me

Nighttime falls and I seek
the boney knuckle wrapped
around my chest

In the silvery cityscape, silence
permeates and I basque in
your peace and sleep talk

Your power over me in passivity
absorbed in the perceived
desire you have for me

Dark, starry nights, early mornings
in which your body, once pressed
with such urgency against mine

became lost in the sensation of
a nervous, covetous warmth

There no longer exists this
sensation, as persistent waning
sent once thunderous waves
into soft rippling and retreat.

To you they seem petty,
Redundant and fancy.
But these words,
All night they kept crying
They stayed awake waiting
You stood them up.
These words,
They cried all night long.

Your words, they are strong
They never shed a tear.
And every precious word
I wrote you,
Let me have them back
Please dear.
Please dear.
They’ve cried all night,
You’ve turned a deaf ear.

They keep knocking on your door
But you do not open.
All night at your doorstep.
You’ve easily stood them up.
They stayed awake waiting
Waiting and crying
They cry all night
But they won't give up.

I have seen the night and know it to be a dark masterpiece,
Of the otherwise vivid picture of day.
I have seen the night and know it to be a tapestry of our entwined bodies,
Which day casts into technicolour.

I have heard the night and know it to be an echo, a drifting rendition,
Of the songs the day will bellow.
I have heard the night and know it to be a waltz of your heartbeat and breath,
Which the day so cruelly mutes.

I have breathed the night and know it to be an elixir, a potion, a perfume,
Of the otherwise sharp bouquet of day .
I have breathed the night and know it to be layered, with the cinnamon aroma of your warmth,
So unlike the day's delicate top-notes.

I have tasted the night and know it to be bittersweet and tempting,
Where the day is crisp and glazed in sugar.
I have tasted the night and know it to be an earthly pleasure, of our honey infused kisses,
Which the day keeps light and lean and fresh.

I have dreamt of the night and know it to be a spinning cadence of wonder, a pirouette of fear,
That day washes away with wakeful thrums of distraction.
I have dreamt of the night, and know it to be only a mere mirage, to the divine reality,
Of waking in the day, next to you.

The battle done,

Remaining combatants one,

Gazing up to the gray cloak,

Tailored to the palace of the moon,

Threatened only by the ever-fading emissaries,

Of the ailing sun.



Each a perfect sentinel,

Of solar prowess technical.

The ceasefire teased opposite

By the lunar composite,

Of that sweeping cloak,

Choked,

Where the moon once woke.

Neither one nor other,



As if my breath could the life

Of either titan smother.

the night air is cold on my back; naked
white, glistening in moon's light
the glint of her silver combs my hair
caresses the cheek of all who dare gaze beyond
her lustrous face.

dotted by pearl freckles that pale her complexion,
brings beauty to nightfall.

o blissful treasure,
take me in my ascent
to your humble home
of crag and dust.

my celestial shore rests on the lunar frontier;
tucked in the embrace of space.