The Things that Hide in Night

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Oh, thy shadows and me,

we meld, we meet,

drink 'nd sup in night,

dribbling like waterfalls,

carelessly, secrets,

echoed and screamed.

Free we are to dance,

to breathe,

to close our eyes,

and see,

not the world as the sun deems,

but our world.

Night, oh, our granter, our guarantee,

to lust's reprieve and doubt's sleeve.

All ours wants dangled before us,

a tantalising ripple of black,

cloaks and silence as our herald.

Oh, we sing to this night,

blackness our confide.

No sins save for those we give it,

the blanket of our wrath,

the towel to our fury,

the martyr for our longing,

forever dimmed by actions not its own.

Still, I could not live without thee,

your cove to hide my dalliance,

for how could I prance about in day,

full proud, full prey,

if I canst be the predator at night?

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