Thursday 9 October 2014

She flickers.
She sways.
They stomp forward and she flows along.
They dim, she brightens.
They burn out, she lights them up again.
She's behind the bookshelves.
In small corners, in wide corridors.
The night's silence strengthens her.
And then, dawn breaks.
They awaken. They laugh.
They've found themselves. And she, she is lost.