Low Light

I want you in the night time.
By me in bed.
Right there in the
unworked side of the mattress.
Where our hands don’t meet in the middle.
I want you in the night time.
Because you are so light of day.
More golden than sun, than sand.
Like wind whipped rock
at the latest minutes of magic hour.
And in the same low light your eyes are
swallowed in their very own brand of black.
And when the wind blows loud and sharp and my
eyes forced closed,
I feel swallowed in them, too.
But maybe it’s not by you at all.
I’m captivated in all that you
have brought me to be
in what I’ve
arrived to
and seen.
And I go now,
your voice the buzz that beats my heart,
and live a love with twilight.

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