Like in a moment of sophistication,
The night ramps through the runway of darkness,
Her scent, melancholy,
i desire not—
grips my soul,
Her cape, the daunting cold,
I know not—
hits me at the core
the rustling leaves, the shadows seem
applauding her reign, but not me
and the faint, glowing streetlights
I close my eyes
in unison with those who slumber,
wishing the morning light will come
