Tassels and pale stars adorn the night and I run through a field of white tulips. A sweet gale lifts ivory petals in a dance and they fall to the ground, collecting in a bed. The moon kills the sun and showers its blanched light upon the field. I am surrounded by no trace of humanity. I run across the moonlit field. I feel Winter’s frigid lips on my skin. Gray-eyed Nightingales perched on boughs croon to the moon and I listen. I lay in the midst of the tulips as the Earth spins and the moon sleeps. The sky rips open and darkness pours over the field. Wet black tulips.
I ascend into the night.

What do you think it means?
Any suggestions for improvement?