Isn't it Strange?

Isn't it strange when something happens when nothing happens and when the silence speaks to you disturbing you to understanding?

Nighttime Love and the Time that Never Ends

nighttime love and the time that never ends, there is hunger in the eyes and the feet can't stand still. A cool wind blows and the heat is getting soft. Rainbow dancers swing to the rhythms of esoterica and I in my memories of telepathic nightmares am gazing in the window of my soul. A dog barks, the candle burns out, there is a feeling of complicity, how many times must there be a return to the same story? And in the mind, are thoughts of strangers, and wonderings of the times which are to be, or not to be. Someone came close and looked me completely in the eye, I don't know whether to suspect her or not, and she waltzed into the eyes and she sang into the lamplight of a song, and the song turned its head away wondered to itself in the restless nighttime. And the nighttime was non-committal and just stood there looking at the moon, and all around the stars were on fire and birds escape to the comfort of new found tales of ancient history. and the rhymms can't let go and dig the beat as only rhythms can. And the music stands on edge, checking itself on every note, not being easy, not letting go of itself. looking into its own eyes for comfort, and I walk away with eyes turned back to the action, and reckon that I might have somewhere new to turn on.