Night

by Vincent Larson

Crawl out

Sliding through grains

Of slanted wood panels

Faces press vehemently

Against the walls

Squeezing their outlines

Into memory sacks

Left bloody

Traces

Of daggers

Darkness breathing

Life on its own

Creeping slowly

Into lungs

Soaking through the pores

Engulfing entire rooms

Leave nothing

But silence.