Late nights

When the sky outside is dark, the world inside seems closer. The air seems thicker, the noises louder, the colours more saturated, the smells deeper inside the sinuses, the flesh redder and softer and more alive. When two people talk late into the night, they become the only people awake; the only people to have talked like that; the only people in the world.

Zero gravity comes in the witching hours, and everything is possible. We can go anywhere, you and I, we can be anyone we want to be, say anything we want to say, any harmonic shift can happen, modes overlapping modes, dancing together feet over feet under calf over shin... unknown places are known without knowing that they are known... we can swim within each other, stuffed inside each other's marrow, and we are somehow as one...

...and yet we remain somehow constrained by the ghost of the daylight, the impending return to the realities of the sun... nothing moves and everything is fixed; the same false movements are made, the same predictable cadences, the stilted gait of walking through the world.

Hold back the night.