You have a manner in your speech
that keeps tricking me to speak.
Silence keeps secrets best
but sound soothes the ears to hear,
that after all,
we are not alone.
As the light outside began to gold,
I tried to explain in a look towards the door—
until from soft hues of blues and poorly lit rooms,
For in the morning my moonlight glow would fade
into polluted imperfections
certain to make us sick.
Thus dreaming remains
in love with the night.
Perhaps too afraid
to come into the light.
Writer: Celida Cambuston is a Child Development major, interested in pursuing a teaching career.
Artist: Michelle Corvino is a student at Fullerton College.