Night grows deep

So silent, the night grows deep,

deeper still lays something, watching 

the pinprick glistens, ever so slightly 

hidden behind a slivered space of the wooden paneling,

waiting, biding, enticed as you slip so comfortably into sleep.

As the night grows deep, beyond the walls 

it breathes.

Biding.

With time, the night goes deep.

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2 thoughts on “Night grows deep

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