The day hangs over the sky in
one last attempt to deliver the red
mass to all those who just noticed
the approaching night. Outside, as
objects grow softer to eyes just
awoken from day sleep, someone
finds the courage to sing a song
they know not the words to.

An embrace overlooking moonlit
structures turns the street into a
light dust, running through old walls
covered in emeralds and opened
windows with sparkling eyes of
young girls who eagerly watch as
small puddles turn into flowing rivers
where a boy carries the one, whose scent
they wish was their own moving
from his neck to his nose to his heart,
happily to the other shore.

And always, the last rays of light find
these reflections nearer to the night