sleep well, dear city

Text on glowing white cannot convey the simple thrill of terror dashing down the spine

Of a well-worn novel, caked with dust

Breathe, and know that you are.

Sleep well till sunrise, when paper-thin arms fail to steady your gaze and the carefully constructed house of cards is blown away,

An aftermath after all.

The moon is blind and we blinded it.

The stars are silent, but we speak for them.

Take wing and under cotton sheets, may you find the warm, slender embrace

Of a goodnight.