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When it is ready
my heart will bare itself to you
and when it does
it will be on a night like this

when the stars are disguised
as their decadent selves
standing still
on a night faintly red
from repressed feelings of
a nocturnal storm
that will fall all around
those who are tucked in bed
and lightning can strike
just anywhere
even on the same place
twice, when no one’s looking

when the barks of trees
twist past amber pain
and into the throes
of wood pleasure,
their roots driving
with gentle force against
the mouth of the earth,
that primal passion
subtly permeating the
deeply breathing darkness,
that breath with which
you and I shall be drenched

a night like this can only be
in keeping with
the revelation I’ve been saving
the maturation of circumstance
like ripening fruit
and at that glistening speck
of time we shall meet as
we are bound to,
like fearless wolves
baying at the moon

on a night like this
I will tell you I love you
and the words I will use
will run together like
a liquid confession
slowly gliding its way
across the lonely void,
a comet that came
a long way
looking for a home

we can tell these
sentinels of destiny about
the epic we’ve written

on a night like this
you will hold me in your arms
and we will mimic
the strength of midnight
turning the calendar pages
for the world’s sleepless axis
and a benevolent dawn
will find us, rock
the cradle of all that is
reborn, and hungry, and
willing, inside us.
.

nightpumps
.
“Day Thirty Six” by photographer Seb Huruguen

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