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There is solace in alone-ness
a sort of lazy warmth
that fills this room in the evening
lent to it by the streetlamps outside
a mechanical hum breathes
into the walls and seems to
playfully rattle the windows
At home, dusk like this was not pleasant
silence and closed doors
held only old demons
forgotten nightmares, or worse
nothing at all
Here they are like promises
invitations, to be opened
to be filled
shadows sprawl across the floor
not to cover secrets and fears
but to remind you
to turn on the light