Triplets for Twilight

Twilight is teasing, the darkness is surrendering and releasing
light resurrected, temptations soften to a hum with the glow of the coming Sun.
What do the shadows look like where you are
I contemplate from afar.
Computer screen pristine, dim hue as it whispers beats to me.
Nocturnally I pace the avenues and streets, coated in a coral sleet,
meek and discreet, thoughtful at the least.
This intent I feel runs so deep.
it overwhelms my nerves, catching me in feeble moments.
It could be the way a bird glides and lands.
Bells ring, crows cackle and sing, these morning rituals ensue.
Am I the only one awake...? my own footsteps are deafening in this isolation
Thriving off the energy of all the floating dreams, I can see them from my rooftop.
Like smoke rising from the chimneys of all those minds asleep.
Stranger, we share so much and yet I do not even know you, I just miss the touch, overbearingly familiar
I've been captivated past the limits I've known
these echoing rhythms break through my deep daze to remind me of you
and that you are somewhere out there, noble and true
holding your own pulse.

The first compositions of the day.
Once again resurrected. Once again a new dew in the grass,
matched by my eyes, moist in mirroring
Time for my own to dwindle to a soft smoke, and rise again later.

I met a lady today, she said her name was Melancholia

*
the allurement stirs
and i follow your edges like a perfect curve
i follow you
like a vacant herd
unnerved
these racing cognitions preferred
an enigmatic choice
in every tremble of my voice
i find a hidden darkness
a lurking as my life has begun to blur
the subtle mould has taken hold of the air
the fine line between what i'm able to bare
in certain positions of the parabolic sun
what dreams have been won and lost
and for which i was actually attentive
retentive of memories i can't correct
caches of pain i wish i'd forget
seeing his face, his smell, his lies
sloshed over the streets i coast daily, high
stoned to my bones, still searching for a home
watching the growing season tame its throne
i try to be humility
i try to be grateful with familiarity
i try to be youthful with antiquity
but the paradoxes and polarities are just an aching tooth
that needs to rot off and evolve
this brain twister needs to be solved
before my claws are useless and i am a pile of flaws
within an equation that bawls after tossing in the sheets
waking up in the morning with no dreams to retreat
13:03 and i'm on the go
but what do i know
what
do i know.

why do i follow you? what grasp do you have
these choices i'm making - under what name, what mask?
noosing my curiosity in your slander
opposite direction no less, shiny objects lead me to meander
i am tender in my confusion
brilliance or dissolution
i cannot recall under which heart i act or seek
when will my dreams resurface to peaks?