"There are two kinds of light -- the glow that illuminates,
and the glare that obscures." -James Thurber (1894-1961)
In bright day, her skin
Is pink and pearl, but they wait;
Though night dulls things that glow,
When dark escapes its box.
Things happen in obscure light
Lips are bit,
But no blood is lost.
When streetlights come to life.
Guides the way to paradise
Where something more is gained,
And sweat is not an irritation;
The reason why
Blood heats, surfacing at touch;
Leg on leg, the insects bow.
To sounds of rustle;
Clothing coming off.