Nestled Closer To The Dark… Poem by Mark Heathcote

I'm going to my winding-sheet
But not before I close my eyes
Only because I need to rest
And I can't stand lies

You know it's dark. When—
Even the giraffes can't see the stars.
And I've stretched my neck so far
I can't close my tired eyes.

Even when my heart
Wants only to reside in its sin
Nestled closer to the dark
So, I say sometimes let it all begin.

But like I say I can't, so
What can I do but linger on
Till I'm crushed by something,
More concrete than a loitering spark.