The night as seducer/seductress - a poem.

 The night as seducer/seductress

the night has its longings

the day does not know,

takes off its furs/dress

no longer trammeled by the light

not afraid to reach out and touch

for warmth

the skin of the one/s it wants to darken

the night has its own restlessness

its feelings/failings

and longs to be found at some hearth

watching the flames licking at the logs

curled up on the carpet

legs stretched out

in its nakedness

having crept in through the window

and the sliver of light

underneath the door

to slide, sidle into bed

and watch over

the breath in sleep,

the soft rise and fall of some fair breast/chest

black now, with the light switched off,

as its own face

in the mirror near, a mere* now

in its sight.

*well