I am in love with the night

I am in love with the night,

The mystic consort of the day

That feels the guilt of my plagiarized hours.

 

I am in love with the night

That splendid looking-glass that hides

The man I am with the one I want to be.

 

I am in love with the night,

The secret cove of my precious trinkets,

Of oysters buried in the pond.

 

I am in love with the night,

The indulgent teacher who does not mind

Forced emotions dressed in beat-up clichés.

 

I am in love with the night,

For the cold caresses of the breeze, and for trees

That heave with winterly knowledge.

 

I am in love with the night.

Except for the flickering stars that pry

And spoil the mock Wordsworthian ambience.

 

I am in love with the night.

And if I could my tattooed mask unpeel

I’d burn my innocence in her arms.