Spying on Twilight, Night and Dawn

Finding myself

within a wrinkle

edging Twilight's eye,

I watched time's hidden grey revealed

in shapes that fell

where ending day

lay fading half-asleep

beneath her lidded

violet gaze.

Night's waiting well;

sun's surface burned to drink,

but depth kept darkness

cold in velvet's deep.

The murmuring thread

of Twilight's tongue

languidly drew up

well's bottom, black

filling her cupped hands of mist

with inky shadows,

rising wet to stain

her thirsty lips.

The peering sky

bent down to taste

her mouth, and all made dark

for lovers who must make

eyes strange by light of day,

each slow hour's dying,

heart's held breath-

'til steps trespass again

when Twilight's violent path appears,

where savage black

hides skin to skin sworn refugees,

two feeding flames

in each conspiring kiss,

breathing night's brief pact of freedom

in ecstatic gasps.

As morning crept,

I watched them naked

dress each other

in their hated daily masks,

then hand in hand,

they ran back to expected deaths,

and Dawn, Night's keeper

of all forbidden meetings

parting sorrowfully beneath 

her waking skies,

rose silently in innocence,

gently smothering darkness

in hues of pink and blue.