Ties Of Dawn

Night unbraids her obsidian hair, My eyelids lift - a shutter's whisper - Horizons blush at my barefoot prayer. I arrive before the first sparrow's hymn, Carrying darkness like unspent ink, My breath etches the world's rim. The sun kneels at my window ledge, A pupil widening in amber awe - I've stolen the recipe for dawn's edge. My palms cup residual starlight, Weaving constellations into braids, Daybreak stutters at my newfound height. The east forgets its golden script, As I unspool hours like raw silk, Night's mourner becomes dawn's crypt-keeper. Clouds part like theater curtains, My shadow stretches - a sundial's rival - Time falters where my soles imprint. The sun borrows my pulse for rhythm, I teach twilight to reverse its flow, Eternity tastes of stolen cinnamon. We meet as equals at last, The dawn and I - twin flames - My rising outshines the sun's vast gasp.