The psychic’s eyes meet mine as we inch across on a wire understanding chasm.
It was like sleeping without dreaming; complete darkness
And his eyes grew dark like the way you like your coffee
Secrets dark as the deep ocean floor, I get the bends when you open your mouth.
Hear it in a minor key; chromatic darkness coloring in
And blacken my eyes with tar.
With my back turned, you blot the sun and I cannot see the glint of your blade.
The dark chocolate of your hair reflect the soul in his eyes.
It was dark like blowing out the candles or the dying night of a cold winter.
Rain clouds soured over the horizon and it was time to go inside.
Instead, man create songs reminding us of death
Still darkness gives way to a vibrant day.
*A Poem of Collective Thoughts*