When the lights are shut off
And the brightness of day
Disappears into dusk.
The secrets of the flesh
Come alive and propogate.
Nighttime bedroom secrets are shared
On pillows of dark relief.
This is a wondrous hour
When treated with respect,
No man must ever use this in vain.
For his mind will reset upon the bright,
And all occult knowledge
Will disappear forever.
But when upheld,
These dark moments can bring
Pleasure forever, and no memory
Can trash what is retained if he so pleases.
Whereas she is always of the night
staring into darkness,
and knows home is made there,
as she makes her home,
in the comforts of being alone.
If only pure sunlight
did not petrify her,
and entered with calm diligence,
and the sun softly
glinted off her skin
in bountiful pleasure.
She would know the brightness of illumination
and sacred pleasure.
For only he can deliver,
and their world is torn between
the ultimate duality
and fight for darkness to become
of the light.
She will be the world
unto which he asks for his blessings.
