On my back. In the dark. Given up to night. I lie, a fool aground. A suckling. Yearning, turning in want and will, smothering in the urges of the underneath. Up there the spangled stars. The moon one quarter lit and on the wane. Hiding its hollows in its divide. And the black beyond. That dark that shades the darkness. The lacuna. Night pulls me in * Night holds me still. Night holds my wants against my will, until I am upended, and released to rise again. * Oh stars, shining in from forever ago, unfathomable in your million millions (Why…Continue reading
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