I am Made of Night

Photo by luizclas on Pexels.com

The night: her darkness, rising.

A cold and loud
river rushing,
and shining,
but only from
your moonlight.
The reflection,
a gift, transient.

Her hollow wind;
blowing,
through minds
and
pulling from memory
are
words whispered softly;
sweetly.
Lies.

Blackened star dust,
floating.

and I am made of night.