The afternoon sun is trying to cut
through the heavy, black
drapes of the sweat-humid dance studio.
Relaxed, local poetry
pours out like lime-cool, 1 a.m. water,
bathing the floor in midnight blue.
Sleepers awaken to conjoin
in an unexpected nocturnal rising.
Dancers spin in a circular reverie –
stretching as their dreams take them
through to the dawn.
A hot, evening shower of rain
releases the steamy smell of clay
from the day baked streets.
A girl begins her journey
and Nox comes to life and speaks.
Cello and trumpet call
outside the shuttered windows
that shade a city room from the dark
that exists only in this night
within the day.