It’s some time between two am and three.
The sky is graphite.
Stardust falls like melting light,
dribbling through the
sooty sable of your room.
Night has hidden you in its pockets of stone.
You are all candlelight,
You keep her there on the rims of your waxing mind.
When dawn breaks the crystalline of the sky
and the once harmless light
now spits cracks on your window –
the wax hardens over your dreamscape
and your eyes swear they’d seen a woman –
The room is empty now
And graphite is leaking black.