Rosalind, with the bedroom of her heart (blackout poetry)

We run back to your house,

The lights are still on,

And they cover your freckled face,

Like it's the sun.

The grass brushes our feet,

And the wind catches in your hair,

We sit out on the sand,

The fog covers the sky,

And blankets the world,

Like a shield. 

The waves nip at our feet,

The water's cold

But I'm warm because you hold my hand,

We stand on the dock,

The sun has set,

But I can see your happiness 

Even in the dead of night.

The streetlight's on,

The metal is all rusted

And covered in salt,