My mistress is laughter in the dark.
The places the devil goes to be alone,
The basements with broken lightbulbs,
The burden of fears frozen in our hearts;
My mistress laughs in that dark.
Her grin casts shadows on my face.
She breathes wisdom on my ears, when she says
“Our love was never meant for daylight.”
She’s the ghost in the park, swinging on the swingset.
She’s the eyes flashing in a field of fireflies.
She’s the breeze that begs me to fall forever,
And be wrapped in the chaos of her arms, until the end.
Until my body hits the ground,
And my soul explodes into the clouds
Falling as tears, as the painting burns.
The art, the beauty, turns to embers and ash,
Floating in the air as the wind holds its breath.
The light is swallowed by shadows,
As the last memory fades,
With nothing but the crackling complaints of a dying fire.
And, when everything is calm, there’s laughter in the dark,
As beautiful as it was at the start.
That’s who holds my heart,
That laughter in the dark.
Laughter in the Dark
