Darkness has mass

Darkness has mass

A sinewy texture

Curling into the deep

Seeping between the cracks

Discolouring skin held together

By the elastic stretch

Of living things

That can look

As smooth as wax

Misshapen faces

As lumpen as

Hessian sacks, stacked

Against a living wall

Roiling

In the intimacy of

Candlelight

Shadow boxing strangers

A challenge

To the imagination.

Old stones gathered by children

Keepsakes

Placed on a mantel shelf

Cavorting as cave trolls.

Even in firelight,

There is magic in short spells

Before the moon glow

Brings order

To the chaos of disbelief.