(no subject)

[_color_me_in]

It must have been by the silvery light
of a waning crescent moon
that the fictive fog rolled seamlessly in,
flickering into existence with a splash of paint
while stars slowly dimmed.

I swear it by the light of dreams -
the second right peradventure -
that the transient night seemed to collapse
upon a surreal sleep.

So it was with all reality within our grasp
that we wandered the realm
by a broken compass' guidance,
destination delectably uncertain -
the horizon but an arms length away.

And thus two silhouettes, we merged
with the shadows of an august shore,
the perfect line meandering through
our circle of sight in such
subtle defiance of Euclid.

Somewhere there were waves
washing footsteps from the world
but it mattered not;
mere echoes could not efface us.

And by the light of an imperceptible vault
we ebbed with the elusive night,
vagrant dreamers at unknown tide.