Nocturnal turns my eyes to white: falling asleep

Turn taking, taking turn, turn
turn
you move around me
in a swirl of darkness, teasing my
senses into dreams,
entrancing the night creatures
from their homes
to greet your silvered moon beams.

To explore, to touch upon
your existence would be heavenly,
ethereal.
Your black fizz hurts my ears when I listen
out for you, you know.
And when you arrive, I see
colours that can only exist in vacuums;
light waves that are jagged
and raw, raw like your dark thought.

When I ride upon your hollow shades,
you always take me
to the places where even comfort hides
her slender, solacing face away:
to lands of bottomless caverns and charcoal shores
that leave tracks across my morning bedroom floor.

You are my iron bed, fathomless pit.
You are the mystifier, oh night.
With silent yawn you send us to our circles of madness,
sadness;
emptying us out
into those unequalled glass jaws of

greying, slight
nothing.