What Hold Has the Silencing Night?
What hold has the silencing night,
What right to refract the bleached bones
Of daylight?
To cloak and distort sanity
Across the ridge of a dark
Hump back?
And tell me with blind words
I am no more than a shadow on a carousel
Of black?
What hold has the silencing night,
With it's despot dreams and
Sibilant drama?
Tearing the soul from a cabbage patch effigy,
Pointing at death with a
Goading stick?
And impose the belief my life is no more
Than a trick of the light,
A trick?
What hold has the silencing night
That I must dispose
Paralingual quiet?
To shout my love at angels,
My voice cracked like a mirror, wrung with
Singing tension?
And with morning liberation,
Bright bombed proximity, love ever too tough
To mention?
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