Sonnet #3

To know it, you must know starlight
Be acquainted with night’s face, the deep of dusk’s insistent lips
And put your hands not put to waste, stroke forth indigo night
unafraid of ink stains, rusty pen tips.

Brave the haunted gleam, but sweet from afar
Proves dead when seen in closer space
Life’s breath stays each burning star,
Some things unwiped from the moon’s tired face.

Endure atmospheric tension, burn to raze skin
Sear worth and joy to weary bone
Yet beneath the vast ceiling of night, dulcet sin,
When dawn pale grows, will find man alone.

Dusty pinpoints upon which lovers’ eyes rely.
We wait for dusk’s return, once again to try.

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