Between Bruises and Blooms

When the house surrenders to silence,
and every light has forgotten its purpose,
she appears.

Not with claws drawn,
nor with eyes full of warning—

but with the patience
only creatures of the night possess.

Lucifer curls beside me
like she has been appointed
guardian of every unfinished poem.

She watches shadows
without fearing them.
She walks through darkness
as though it were simply another room
she has already memorized.

Perhaps that’s why I trust her.

The monsters never seem to visit
when she’s asleep against my side.

Maybe they know
this kingdom already belongs
to a queen dressed in midnight fur,
whose purrs are softer
than any prayer
I’ve ever believed in.

So tonight,
while the world dreams of daylight,

I’ll stay here—

writing beside the keeper of midnight,
where darkness
doesn’t feel lonely at all.