Mercurial Darkness Society

What
I heard then
when the rain struck

the leaf

blinked. When the
giraffe
child slid out,

opened her eye for the first time,

fanned
those lovely coveted

lashes. When my movement
loved its
movement’s clone

in the moonlight;

in you, asleep.

The stars
trembled
on the ceiling. They do
not

talk amongst themselves. They

do not tell

secrets—they have no secrets
left to tell.