after a photograph by John Santerineross
Night is a wine that always
tastes of kisses.
Night is a promise
that only nakedness sustains.
Night is a cormorant diving deeper
into a turbulent river.
Night is the seventh tarot card
still wavering in your hand.
Night is the incomprehensible
solitude of lightning.
Night is an evanescent smile
passing like a streaking spark.
Night is a mirror of shadows
only breathing your hair.