The Night Is Young

“The night is young
The night is young.”
A beat like a drum,
repetition drives the swell.
“The night is young.”
Unlike none Before,
That hurried feeling
as the pace rises.
Rises to neither last nor fade
besieged then dissipated about us
made, quietly.
“The night is young.”
Smoke that rose just above
the floor.       That divides us,
From the past, now, and later
From where we've slept-       where we stand
and where we'll lunge to be laid to rest,
desperately grabbing.
“The night is young.”
Reaching out at drops of rain
slip like silk through fingertips
Shatter on the ground
Like glass blades of windowpane
Clear stars on a concrete sky
soon stomped out by quickened steps.
Regrets never felt so cold
Hurry get inside.
“The night is young.”
Hide and lie      awake at night
thinking:
“The night is young.
The night is young”