Child of Night
I like being awake all night
like I'm a secret person
not real at all
child of night, known by no one
living underneath the earth
negative space, living like no one
known by no one underneath the earth
here we have our own private language
secret numbers recited on a string
a quiet glance revealing nothing
(a secret handshake a decoder ring)
bathed in the dull blue glow of monitors
trading exclusive bits of nowhere
sending a silent cry along the wavelength of nothing
we get our quiet rewards anonymously
our secret unsuspected nation, divisible, under the ground
there are so many other phantoms just like me
I will never know them, nor will they ever know themselves
nor will I ever know myself, there are too many echoes
reflections, diversions, obsessions, perversions
so many distractions in the belly of the night
the day is too active too busy too motioned
for those of the night hibernating like me
the day is too noisy with threatening emotion
for those of the night sensitive as can be
there are trees in the forest that are falling like madmen
and there are phantoms around listening on through the night
so as the world revolves there are always eyes enough
to fill the dark sky with their yearning, earnest gazing
though answers are few, and these questions have no end
I like being awake all night
like I'm a transparent person
thoughts rolling clean through me
that velvet darkness covering my heart completely
no sunlight should now penetrate this veil
and the night and I suit each other so perfectly
no division, no partition, a loveless romantic tale
not responsible for all that acidic sunlight
bleaching everyones emotions clean and sterile
not the usual child of days, instead a deep compacted mote
one who can understand the lush quality of the darkness
that covers the land and covers me like sweet mercy, nightly
I like being awake all night
like I'm a starlit person
who cannot keep the day
Copyright © Clifford Dehaven | Year Posted 2011
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