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.