what have we done with the night?

i don’t have time
to pause
when dusk
brushes against my door

why should i
let the dark
curtail this glide
through my oh so brilliant life

when i can flick
a switch
or three
and become a moth

a moth

forever drawn
in and in and in
to seductive screens

where this ravenous mind
can have
its endless fill

but where my body
my body
can’t moan
or feel
or touch
the tender night
at the edges
of my artifical light

but i don’t want
to let the world
take its leave

and i can’t turn away
from this relentless

sometimes i hear
a silent plea

turn it all off
put it all down

and let the arms of night
hold me

but i don’t want to stop
and feel

i’m afraid to stop
and feel

and anyway…
who has time these days?

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