night, the beloved.
night, when words fade and things come alive.
when the destructive analysis of day is done,
and all that is truly important becomes whole and sound again.
when man resembles his fragmentary self and grows with the calm of a tree.
there are nights when the wolves are silent and only the moon howls.
you took me by the hand,
i shivered
the cold had tempted us with passions of unknown
what we felt then was not a misery
i lost your grip,
intentionally
love was never there to cheer
the jeopardy was not mine for ask
i ran and ate the light of guidance,
empty
sought for hunger,
you tried hard to have a grab on me
tricks were managed
but i did not satisfy your unimaginable puzzled mind
and that i intended to sail
not to see you,
not to see the water i have been frightened of,
not to feel,
i ought to be unleashed from gyves i had been wearing
