Blue Hour

What a strange darkness before the murder of dusk. Find me in the eventide. Be my ruin. Your voice is a whisper in the blue hour void. Witness cigarette fire spinning in my fingertips like a spill of starlight. A statue standing in Arcadia, I AM suspended in a paradise of stillness. The finiteness! of this life! I witnessed the weeping heavens breaking with light. Flashing fireflies igniting in the fledgling nights. My grief returns to kill me in the eventide. Be my flame in this abyss. Dusk is detonation like desire. The gravity and grief! of Being! Yes, I had a dream I woke with wings. Days of desperation: you devastate me with need. Desire, lightkeeper in the fleeting fever of eves. Once I was burning Icarus in flight. Then I escaped desire. The skies are riven by weeping rain, a deluge on these jacaranda avenues. Desire this lightning in the ravine—I am standing in Arcadia again, chasing heartbreak in the darkness. Before the murder of dusk, I witnessed the end of the universe. Oh my jewel of Eden, come be a burden to me—be my gravity, I am weightless with grief.