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![Image for the poem Turning Night](/images/uploads/poemimages/481096.jpg?1682782695)
Turning Night
Negligence, in the way
you wear that gown
As if heavy, you let it slide
cascading, like a pink-shadowed pool
gathering in ripples, at your feet
This beginning commotion
to our mighty evening
Sunlight holds, trying to mold
its embrace around your sides
But I step between
stealing it's reflection
Causing it to leave with nothing
but it's own embarrassed blushing
You're mine
Day can never reach
the scattered evening like I
When I cause the stars to ignite
Imploding under the shattered force
of your wild eyes
Negligence, in the way
your hair vines, rivulets streaming
Like black water curling
around my finger-branches
I weave a passage, as
moonbeams bend through
our turning night
Hands holding wrists;
Knuckles drum-tapping
irregular, with our beating hearts
The walls absorb your flailing
Their hide conceals little valleys
Where you climbed, in peaks
higher into the night
Negligence, in the way
we unbraid our arms
Legs fail, into the shallow shadows
of the ebbing white-water linen
As if a current, fading from us
Softly falling aside
We lay, as if in the damp wrinkles
of a river-shore
that poured us back out
yet kept our sacrifices
The grinning moon, smiles
and wraps us in natural joy
We, now as two clouds
drifting into haziness
within an overturned night.
~~~
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