Illustrative curtains of midnight blue,
rustle softly in the corner.

they whisper in unison
an elegant undercurrent to the babble noises of the night.

Interwoven threads brush lightly against your face,
their harmonized voicings tell of things that creep
in the stagnant midnight hours.


Still as a statue you stand, letting them envelope
you in a silky cocoon.
Swirling blue covers your eyes, swimming in front of you
as does the ocean under the gaze of the bright stars.

They ebb and flow like waves on the pale moonlit shore of your skin,
washing away your thoughts, one after the other, like tiny seashells.

The sun peaks over the horizon, and it seems that the subtle breeze
lingers, then fades into the rays of light that dart through the curtains
that were once so inpenetrable.

Stepping away, the curtains hang dully in the unflattering morning light,
their brilliance in the previous night all but an indelible memory.



But the night will come again....
 
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