Infinitely I yearn for the nightly wandrings

Round a desolate street of my sleeping city

Bathed in the sickly glow of flickering streetlights

Lightly treading,



Kiss the hand to the moon

no magic found in a sunlit noon.

Floating through the night like a vague spectre 

Beholding the life of the underground.

Rippling cloth and rustling gait:

This Cinderella flees a sinister ball.


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