Twilight to dawn
Where do you suppose the light goes
when the shadows creep in?
I never felt quite myself
until night came on, like a fever
The warmth spreading to heat
the mind shifting to another plane
creating something palpable
this great want of words
Molding it and giving it legs
letting it go and watching it
walk, run, and wander around
or lying back while it
dances on the ceiling
more than vapour
less than clay
slipping out with the start
of a new day
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