At Night

Written by Vincent Zulawski

 Photograph by  Arash Asghari

Photograph by Arash Asghari

I sit in silence, maudlin

Stirring like a cat

Eavesdropping on my thoughts

Moving from grey to black.

The lights are on

The night is nigh

I read and write

And stay away from the window.

 

My body is still

Exerting this quill

Like a silver pencil flashing through the unlit

Cutting apparitions out of the gloom.

 

Frozen by time, it seeps now through my pores

The clock ticks, tocks, grains of salt on the floor

Waiting to be crushed,

Crystals and fine specimens.