as night relieves from duty, once again, cirrus fills spaces of prior void.

champagne and pale gold color such canvas an interesting shade of blue I call “precarious.”

I remove my spectacles,

anticipating an offer of repose from perception.

Peace will come thy dwelling,

barring nights like these.

nights the meat beneath my eyes notes deeper settlement,

and the sun absorbs my tenebrosity

against the stifling luminosity of the moon,

just for a chance to be seen

in the light of day;

to be the light of day.