Make the Darkness

The night, a question I can’t

answer, subsumes me. It whispers,

Let’s make a deal. You can’t see

everything. That’s part of the fun.

I don’t choose so the party chooses

me. I only love a room once everyone

has left it, a crime scene in which I

search for clues, a narrative. You

can’t understand something until it’s

over. And what do I find? I won’t reveal

anything except to say I write to you

in invisible ink, my words bleeding

into the night with all the other ones.

And let’s face it, if this story has a happy

ending, I’ll be as surprised as you are.