Light Box

The night seems still young and sleep so far from my gaze...cold...thick...humid darkness has their own untimely murmurings and offerings to lay...but I...as always stay inside my light box...doodling over my lost sketches of memories...ye heart...o ye heart...thou preaches only the solace of love...take me to that mystic land of pure...pointless but pinching essence of her darkness...take me there...