the sky…
it dies a yellow death every evening
every evening, the bougainvillea fades a little more
little by little the leaves close
till all that remains is just the night.
everyone else is gone
i light a candle
the night sits by me
we talk fables, we drink our wine,
our shadows dance on the yellow wall.
we whisper
our tales are darker than our shadows
we dig into the night
shreds of the midnight cling to our fingers
we dig deeper, deeper
