Stale Dawn

9:41

Night is stranded
an antilogy
of black and white,

akin to lambent
sparkling shots
that chill a heart's fire
at third quarter,
half illuminated.

I cross berber
one leg ache
to descend
like a puppet's
jocular shadow.

Disrobing
porch light
and glazing
nebulous moon
with dignity
of naked stains.

Adieu my soul.