… and overnight, the world grows cold and still, and only moth wings beat the rhythm of sleep.
… and the moon drapes silvered shrouds o’er life, transforming commonplace.
… and in occluded shadows, the unseen people congregate and search for what they’ve lost.
… and violence is done.
… and love is spilled.
… and the cry of a million dreams embraces heaven.
… and an old man smiles in his youth.
… and there, in all my darkest hopes, I leap at each fairy-lit crack in time.
… and all my lives are stirred within me
… and the winds of reverie shake loose his crushed desires.
… and for a brief lifetime the city is mine.
… and he shucks off his imagined bonds, transcending even himself.
… and still the hearts surrounding me speak quiet and true and mark each heavy breath.
… and overnight the dark speaks truth, and false reality slumbers.