Noir Nights

On the parchment of twilight,
[Smudged with the setting of
A resplendently selfish sun,
Hastily snatching away
The last streaks of rouge,
From December’s brittle evening]
Preserve, for me, a moment…

Of lumps of light,
Of giggly laughter,
Small specks of me,
Tiny tads of you,
A cautiously nurtured patch of us-ness.

It is in times such as these,
[Like now, in the silence of noir night,
When all semblances of carefully defined meaning,
Slip away, dissolving like smoke rings;
And a void vacant vagrancy homes
Nestling into my dusty eyes]
That parched and desiccated,
From too much of having-felt,
I yearn,
More than ever,
The supposed placation of that moment.

I search futilely among faces,
Faded, fresh; familiar, foreign…
The dark drape of night doesn’t unfurl,
No wall crumbles letting in sheens of you…


How far have I been walking beside my shadow?

December 19th, 2009.