light sinks like sadness
through your window
down
down
to where we stole
the blush from sunset
and spread like butter
on naked sheets.
no sound now
but snoring crickets bored
by a lightless night,
their song mocking
the damned infernal
now, now, now
of wanting wasted
on one who is no more.
Lori Boulard
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-sound-of-now/
