Night Walks

the night is young, but barely enough to intoxicate itself. my exhalations are removed from two tired lungs; and in that moment, I'm blind to see your worth, a digit free pricetag that finds itself in the covering of the sky's blinking eye. I take you for granted in the blackdrop that absorbs the fainting light and our relationship is free as the mistress that waits for her deposit without end-- the labors of love ruined by passion. as I place my hand on this sunken chest I beg for forgiveness that stains your darkness back where it belongs. Yes, the night is young And I see the darkened plumage of your youthful flattery.