Low Light

The sun is thrifty on cold winter days
Moving so quickly
The day becomes a sunset.
Dark creeps between the alley cats
And in trees where the sunlight slowly dies
But though the sun leaves our city a cuckold
Pieces of the day are caught like fireflies
In the eyes of a girl and the cigarette
She only smokes when she drinks.
The light is held in the corners of the room
And shuffles quietly past lovers
Who have yet to share
Details that are shadows
Which only whiskey can reveal.
The room is jumping in candlelight
Against the walls like a seasick canvas
And I imagine the low light
And its large belly which swallows
All else in sight
Except her subtle eyes
That cannot blink.

My imagination thrives in such dimness
As if I were asleep.
We are invisible in this low light
We are in love
Let this day never die
Nor wake.