On this restless night
no peace of mind, no peace of mind,
place this moon, this moon said searing,
on this restless and fearful night.

All is light in a window,
moves in fear, moves in fear,
wolf-yellow the moon is on fire,
and even the blackest soul

feels wind through their sleep,
feels every scar and scuff
and cat-thin curve,
owls’ eyes in the leaves.

The chambers of the heart creak,
cars sear the cemetery street
and the city shifts its sliding weight,
sounds sucked up long and black.

Some make the night their own,
and the ghosts run low among us,
raise themselves, rear up,
and cold comes to clamp the bones.

Something human silhouettes
on this restless night,
no part rages, no fire feeds the spirit,
on this restless and fearful night.

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