By 7 am the light of Venus shines bright,
as Mercury and Neptune dissipate into quicksilver clouds
broken by the iodine morning sun.
And as the sun rises her light dies,
Venus does not set,
she disolves before our eyes.
Fickle in her unique beauty,
softly illuminating such silent hours.
It is in these plush chambers of my heart where you still live.
Tucked between 3 am &the sunrise.
Whatever those moments mean to those who seek all but rest.
This dying light of Venus is a poetry,
’bout those short love affairs,
who rise in the darkest hours but see no shadows
to disappear upon the new day’s light.
-six pm | *the dying light of venus