In that split second mid-sky exchange,
The morning invited me to see the dawn,
She left me her numbers, coordinates I presume,
Where she will be when the darkness is torn,
And the great designer reconstructs the sky,
Embellishing it with egg yolk yellows,
stretching fingers of orange, blossoming blues,
As the eye of the sun re-opens,
That we may break the darkened fast on sunshine,
A beauty so uncommonly common, it’s absurd,
She dares me to trespass beyond my avowed darkness,
And try as I might, I could not get away,
The fortress of dawn is forever kept from me,
For when the hour was ripe,
From the battlements,
The arrows of first light were fletched,
Wedging painfully into my fabric,
They heard not my plight,
‘stead they set me alight
They tranquilized my efforts,
Flinging me far from sight
And now I awake,
As late as the afternoon,
A convalescent I remain,
My salve will arrive with the moon,
Not a moment too late, not a moment too soon,
I fear I may have to relent with the dusk,
With its grays and fading pomegranate violets,
My beautiful night’ sky and her pearls,
An ancient black beauty,
She can keep her dawn,
As I will my black bride.

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be sure to purge (thoughts,ideas,complaints) if at all you feel the nudge

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