Pitch-blackness

Pitch-blackness wraps me up
in its arms of warmth
in its velveteen perfection.
A crescent nightlight illuminates
full moon eyes of fading hope.
Eyes so thirsty;
parched for a tomorrow
not drenched in yesterdays.
But, hope is perched precariously
outside the window;
waiting for the silent dawn to
swallow the stars; and
sing my life’s score.
In that moment
between reality and dreaming
between madness and sanity
as unconscious slips murkily
into the conscious;
the ocean fuses with the sky
the rain merges with the tears
and I my love, I melt into you.