What if we do right by the night, it engulfs us, all clam-like but It's only a faux goodbye There's always another rising and it might shut me down, knowing just that But the night, oh shell shelter, the mother of pearl, it never fails to awe and inspire and I must disclose me I undergo the motion, the blood flow, as through an ocean telephone. Now I find I rippled the hour You cower from my mirror eyes. And I know no rising, nevermore. Is it not my night right?