The night of the mist

We walked into
a vapor of forgotten heat
where haze crouched blindly
into chilling air.

I touched your shoulder
like a bird that gently meets
its favourite branch
amidst a sea of dancing leaves.

Your skin dark as the earth
rushed in a silent hug
to catch my hands
as careful as a fleece of down.

You walked me down a pipe
of blackened light
kicking the darkness
which obscured my soul.

The night of the moon

We sat there on the gras
a silver carpet sprayed with sparkling dew
milking light from moon’s pale face
with newborn eyes.

I heard your voice
like a stream of precious coins
attending to be spent
in the darkness of my brain.

Your laughter twirling in mid air
as a school of drunken bats
rained on my skin
leaving silence and silver rays

You took off your glasses
to grow the world
while the black forest of your hair
began to grow inside of me.