At Night is a night poem, a reflection on and celebration of the night’s silence, darkness, and an appreciation of starry skies.
Firefly or Filth – Night Poem
At night,
I prowl the streets naked, and I know I should be in bed
tucked up relinquishing the day but instead,
I swank my limbs along filthy pavements unfit
to eat my skin or scavenge my song so sad yet sweet
like the cotton candy we bought and sucked on the rollercoaster
the same day I trapped a ladybird with seven immaculate spots or perhaps six, it doesn’t matter really, ‘cause they were perfect
like a Sunday morning lie-in reading a cheesy romance novel and staining Egyptian cotton sheets with strawberry jam and the Lavazza coffee you brewed me after sleeping beside me for twelve hours intermittently,
not like this night and that
when streetlights suck me in and out and dry and I know I’m about to get spat out across the sky like a firefly on a good night or
like crumbs trapped between your two front teeth on starless skies
I can never tell until it’s too late
‘cause I can’t see the sky for the stars or the stars for the sky,
at night.
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