Night

Night, in here and around me. I feel the cool dampness of city night as I point blindly into the windscreen. My body floats in black ether in the auto. My eyes bob in black bile that is my body floating. My eyes are recessed deep into the gelatinous head causing lolling brown and orange night traces of light passing through the body to be snuffed out before reaching them. These wasted gifts I store close to my mind are the last thing I have dominion over in the night. Yet, is this night when it is of my choosing? What of the inexorable descent of that sun, of the day objects now in shade, sweating? These many conditions of night, many postures of the dark and lost of which this impoverished dwelling inside me is just one. My eyes have roamed so many darkened bowers, given into dim door frames, gazed in error at a new face each night and communicated the notion ‘home’ across the short void to my mind.