Song of the endless night

Song...

as though this night were crickets
singing with crickets
as though they were june bugs
flying phosphorescence
or the sound or phosphorous itself
burning outside my window
on this dark of the new moon

as though the were stars singing
in the silence
as though the silence itself
were roaring
as though it were a crater
of glass
smashing in the distance
as though all distances were humming
as though the humming were everything
the only thing
as though the humming were love
if love were an endless night
love humming
silent love
humming
where all sound is devastating
where my own voice must be kept at a distance
for fear for fear for fear
there is no way out
of this night's song.

—Lorena Wolfman