"i wish i were a warhol silk screen hanging on the wall"

during this time, i waited. the moon became my late night lover, for there was no time for sleep. under the streetlight something moved, there was a shadow. i thought it was mine, escaping. but even my shadow had learned to wait, to hold on. sometimes the rain would come and sing me to sleep. others, the silence was enough to craddle my thoughts. often times, it was too much.