Take back the dark:
Clutch a star-stained mantle of stillness
In fingers cold and white with wanting;
Wrap a cloak of shadows like a shroud
Around your shoulders and tuck your dreams
In pockets deeply lined with memory,
A brooch of fancy fastened at your throat.
Take back the dark:
Stride down lanes of silent, shuttered houses
Where mists of forgetting sweep across the sea of sleep;
Glide from streetlamp pool to porchlight puddle
Wearing boots of borrowed time.
Take back the dark:
Press your palms against silvered stone
And feel the broken beat of midnight’s pulse
Echo in the empty hollow between your blood and humming bones.
Rise and dance like a moth around a bonfire flame
To the secret song of cinder-sparks and wishes,
Casting spells that climb like smoke on the midnight wind.
Take back the dark:
Defy the dreary daytime glare
Of shuttered hopes and superstition
To rule the night like a witch queen might
When she claims her moonlit throne.