In the gloaming I wait,
watching the silhouetted shapes
meld into the vast sky darkening,
a late and desolate hour.
Alone, alone, hoping
the self-immolating mind
will reveal pure cast necessity,
a trillion collisions over the universe,
scattered with eyes shut.
Once more I fall into its embrace,
the deep gentle and whispering,
and see a starlit night above
without constellations.