Melt into the drawn darkness,
Sheathing like a seamless garment.
And mothers take home their babies,
Waxen and delicately curled,
Like little potted flowers closed under the stars....
Lights go out ...
And colors rush together,
Fusing and floating away.
Pale worn gold like the settings of old jewels ...
Mauve, exquisite, tremulous, and luminous purples,