The Things We Do in Darkness

Any introduction would ruin this.

The things we do in darkness
We hide in dreams.
The lover kissing sweetly
His panting partner’s cheek,
The midnight whisper whisping
Over the ridges and soft peaks
Of a twitching ear.

These things we conceal
In the broad stillness,
In the nocturnal fragrance
Of the moon’s dangling raven tresses.

Our clandestine, candle-less act
Is not one of our choosing,
Our secrecy bound to nature,
To impulses beyond reason.

We wash our bodies in black ink,
Meshing with the night,
As eyelids close—
Doors to chambers
Holding captive
The things we do in darkness
In reserved reverie—
The wind sighs
And the whisper dwindles
To silence.