tender twilight. a little like July. drifting idly by. grey clouds smear the sky. there is rain inside of my lullaby. telling me not to cry. breathing farewell's sigh.
the stars are hanging, shining brightly. the sky above me glows white. the tiny lights, flickering slowly. as if they were signaling me. the falling rain tenderly, gently.
in the black light. no shadows will fall. in the black light. is darkness made flesh. in the black light. screams become skin. in the black light. dreams become wings.