What is it about the night that beckons me? Is it the quiet, the solitude, the space and time to think? Thoughts still under its gravity, straying to loved ones past and present. Under the same sky, we are now in our private worlds, connected by an ethereal thread called history.
What is it about the night that beckons me?
Is it the swelling tide? Just like the surging realisation of desires in our hearts? Is it the second chances we give ourselves? Or is it the overdue hour of reconciliation?
Gently, night rests her head upon me and eases me to sleep.
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