starlight dim

a foreign city
and the street lights
twinkle
just like cat eyes,
blinking away
bits of darkness
as if chipping
away marble
to reveal grand
statues.

the flowers have all closed
for the night
along with the bars,
and a woman stumbles
out onto the street
with her handbag loosely
strung from her shoulder.

the streets are stone
and the sidewalks
are drowsy,
clicking away footsteps
under starlight
dim.

the woman stumbles
and someone is there
to catch her before
she falls.

he takes her hand and
she smiles at him
knowingly.

tap away,
foreign
footsteps
through the night
where cat eyes play
reflective
along stone streets
when the flowers
have all closed
for the night.

shoot out the lights
and enjoy the dark.

let the finer points
of the deep black night
take you as a
mother
cradling
a child.

surrender to yourself.

absorb the air,
and feel up the night
with lapping tongue.

be the morgue of
your own desire
where the wrestling hand
of stillness sleeps
in the meek
starlit sky
and fly
through
the deep black light
where sight
is the silence
of fear
in the clear
tranquil night.

blend the ink
and blink away
the light.

give yourself away
to the darkness.

and only then
will you perceive
that there was never
really anything to see
on such a starlit night.