"When It's Dark"

I keep dreaming: 

If only darkness was my friend, 

Then - 

Maybe - it wouldn't act so defensive, 

Trying to cover up the flaws and losses 

So that I gloss over them.  


Impossible to find, 

I find myself even when it's so deathly, 

When - 

After I've grown tired of luminous bodies - 

I close the blinds of my eyes 

So the blackness can morph itself with faint color - 


Color rising from the dead, 

But not from solid ground.  

In fact, there is no fact or form

That my imagination will recognize - 

Not when it's dark.  


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