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Ianna Chay<br />
One Night<br />
She laid on a carpet of green that was pierced with faintly scented delicacies<br />
and she spoke of her night and of the one she loves<br />
to the moon and the stars who push their light through the dark:<br />
I was happy until he leaned in and that cloud -<br />
that damn cloud that darkens his vision<br />
and inflicts a great weight upon his shoulders<br />
constantly pushing him down<br />
and penetrating through his soul with its acidic rain<br />
leaving him with a void he tries to fill<br />
while holding no knowledge of how to<br />
began to hold me in its grim arms as if we were friends<br />
I was happy until the absent feeling of supreme youth<br />
pressed itself against my supple lips and body<br />
I was happy until the humid blue taste of death<br />
pervaded my mouth and began suffocating all that it could reach<br />
[my heart, my brain, my soul, and let us not forget my lungs and my throat]<br />
I was happy until the cold wind<br />
whispered words soaked in despair<br />
sending icy chills down the meanders of my body<br />
He pays the figure with no face<br />
in the black cloak who holds a scythe<br />
eleven minutes of his life [that we could have shared]<br />
for a momentary pleasure only he feels<br />
Civility + You<br />
87
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