10pm seduces me
like a siren luring
promising me peace and quiet
but she lies
my thoughts are amplified in the silence
and there's no distraction from the numbed pain
I lay here rubbing my eyes
and throbbing temples
contemplating why I don't just sleep
but she whispers and summons
all the monsters
under my bed

Illuminated by the moon.
Her whispers come to me.
I show her that I listen,
I'll prove her that I see.
In a white summer dress,
barefoot by the creek,
with my loose long hair
and my soft pink cheeks.
Almost midnight time,
stones, herbs and tree barks,
kneeling on the grass,
going over ancient marks.
My silver hoops sparkle
and I begin to recite
a beesech to a force
unnoticeable to the sight.
Developed energies.
Astral effect;
my state of mind goes higher
so my wish I can project.
I feel its presence;
It thickens the air.
The wind blows stronger.
I can feel its piercing stare.
I command you my will
and I order you to bow
as I start to float inside the circle
baring my tar black soul.
The moon is still there,
up there in the dark sky.
It giggles and whispers:
*You belong to the night.

Echoes of crickets
Motors rumble and growl
The night's symphony

It’s one of those
nights, right -
The remnants of rain
bouncing off the train
door
More
water on the seats
neatly left alone,
no glances thrown.

Tired women catching up
on each other's days
and work,
giving in to sleep
one by one,
until I’m the only one
up,
gasping
at the deafening wind.

It’s a new world
when the train stops
and the wind drops.
So my feet take me
home.

It’s one of those nights
Every night.

We were stumbling back to the car, late at night on aching feet,
Our worn out voices sounding raspy and weak
Makeup smudging on our eyelids and cheeks

Arms entangled, it started with you looping your arm through mine,
Then my hand found its way to your shoulder
And somehow we were holding hands again
It was all a blur.

Your words were slow and slurring
As if you were thinking through honey
For me not so,
my mind quick as ever to put my thoughts into words

Instead my insides felt fizzy
Your blurring remarks making me giggly.
“That’s a church”
You mutter faintly,
Waving a hand towards the Cathedral
Giggles escape from my mouth,
Growing into laughter
I try to make it sound dainty.

Perhaps the passerby thought we were drunk,
But we hadn’t had a sip of alcohol
You were drunk on tiredness and music
And I was high on dying love and music.