La noche siempre caerá sin que te des cuenta
Listen: The day will end and I will bear witness.
I make you sit beside me by the window
to memorize my subject, isolating the sky
from the cypress and the street lights
that threaten the ceramic-urn blue’s
illusion of uniformity, and then it is mine.
You explain that my experiment
is not worth its weight in the mosquitoes
I have now invited to bite our skin
by leaving the window open.
I am young, and my body gives itself
easily to my science. But the window is my father’s,
and he closes it behind me, framing
the new tropes: fog, darkness, a grid
showing the modes of passing time.
It is because of you, father,
that night, too fragile for my studies,
will always strike silently, outside of time,
the way darkness is let loose inside the warrior
when he discovers his mortal wound.