come hither from yonder

nighttime,

the lights are off,

it's almost completely dark;

above the japanese shoji screen,

a quarter of the window shows,

illuminations shadowing through from the street onto the wall,

come hither from yonder.

it's mostly quiet,

wah, wah, wah, tv noise from somewhere,

shuffling feet, chair legs moving across a floor, heat pipes knocking about,

a car honking in the distance,
huxley is still awake,

he's talking out loud to himself:

ewww, the heart monsters,

they came from bloody island, ewww,

they live inside a shell from the biggest

to the ugliest, ewww...

the sweet, mellifluous sound of his "little boy" voice;

calming tonic, come hither from yonder.