10 PM

Never have I seen stars that bright,

the moon's crescent so distinct and clear,

nor smelt air this sweet, 

than tonight.

Tonight, walking 

seems neither embraced

nor unwanted,

just something I have 

to do,

this walk I have

to walk,

likely because

it's both.

I revel, even

just a little

in pain 

beneath my feet, 

perhaps because

of what pain

proves,

or to validate

the suffering,

maybe. 

Bright stars, 

curved moon,

sweet-smelling air;

you weave through

my other thoughts,

through my mind's

fingers,

and hair. 

A turn, 

and it is over;

the looming canvas

is riddled,

sweeping,

confusedly,

with dark clouds.

My mementos are

gone.

Only 

the secret place

they strayed idly

and strongly in,

for awhile,

remain.