November 30th, Christmas lights, already?

I can see the frosted icicles from my window, the cluster of wired white lights dangling from the banister. The soft patter of rain melds with the ticking of a clock, lamplight-droplets echo from the clouded night and fade into the soft black velvet, puddle-collections forming in the gutters. The winds blow and I can feel their undying caress chill my bones, rippling back and forth across my spine. Yet I am warm, sheltered by the streetlight kerosene-radiance, refracting off of power lines. I watch as the analog clock turns sharply from 11:59 to 12:00 midnight, just as I had noticed 49 minutes earlier…

The incandescence fades from my sanguine walls yet my eyes do not meet the darkness. Ink, it falls from my pen onto a college ruled notebook, carving its black letters onto the page, splashed with the spattering of rain drop reflections. Beauty, the symmetry of accidental inscriptions and enamored pen leaks. I hear the vibrations of never-ending communication and wonder who might be calling at this ungodly hour--12:06 flashes on the mark.

The soft grey sky and darkened floral patterns lull me into a comatose state. I wander… Cross-sectional yellow-oranges keep me at bay, guiding me, guiding, guiding... Where? Home. Drooping, the world is slightly skewed, glazed over; sleep beckons the brain to adjourn consciousness.

Oh, I’m falling. Slowly, faster now, drifting into the smooth contours of your—my pillow, echoing off to join the realm of the subconscious.

Phosphorus, phosphorus, phosphorus…