Distant
police sirens shrieking and wailing. The haunting howling of a fierce angry wind.
Discarded empty cans cartwheeled and scurried and made their pathetic tin
clamor on the street. The night is a deep well, the night is the time for shadows
to rise, for walls to hear. Every soul a vessel that spills its brimming tip in
the dark, night is when aching hearts entangle. I can feel your far away thoughts
in my head, my lips part and I almost utter a word that is more yours than mine.
