Untitled [03]

i marvel at how
the light from the lamppost
casts shadow
upon your face,
how your eyes
get cloaked
and your cheeks become pools
of orange and gray.

midnights and
distant murmurs
of words unspoken
lead us on
as the world sleeps
while we parry and walk
upon pavements cold
and aglimmer.

i marvel at how
content i have become
in this silence
our silence
enveloped by the shy
glow from the lamppost,
in this transience and
sporadic shimmer

woven in the night
gone come dawn.