sometimes in the morning i laugh at the way

the light of the sun grips so violently to the buildings 

so eager to spread its light and dispense of all the

darkness.

and i laugh when night comes slowly and quietly

like a whisper spread across the sky.

it devours the city into its inky, opened mouth,

but is still filled with light,

of the sky, and of the streets.

so i’ll be the night, if you are the morning

and i’ll let your light linger

within me.

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<3C