Ode to the Night

١

the night is a sea
and stars are memories of mary, sly, black pearl, and our child; the brightest star in a cloud

the night is an apology:

sly: i’m sorry for becoming a knife and a coward
pearl: i’m sorry for becoming an eye for an ‘i’
mom: hello, it’s me. i bear your father’s name like a birthmark. he was a rock, had bigger feet and longer fingers. i’m told, artists have longer fingers so as to mould anything out of clay, like god.

٢

nights like this, arabic songs scissor the night into shreds of abstract syllables

٣

the wind smells of mirrors. it’s the fragrance of heaven seething through the windows of stars.

the wind is jazz, a duvet – a smoke of high grade weed from god’s lungs.

٤

save for the lull of crickets, a boy and a girl giggling, a loud snore, the neigh of a horse…it’s a calm night; i almost stretch out my arms to swim in the serendipity.

٥

instead
,
i brew
myself
black
coffee
because
i’m told
that’s
what
writers
do
.

11.57 pm

٦
…and tomorrow, your shoes must shine. ’cause your feet are made of star dust.

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About Wudz

A scribe. A psychonaut.
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

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