WEBVTT

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The next two poems are
a little more indoor.

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They're about sleep or rather
the first is more about sleep,

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and the second about
waking or whatever you

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want to call it in this case.

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"Sleep."

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We march into our eyes,
teaching our hands

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to believe the
wounds of darkness.

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But they multiply without
us, faces of carbon and led,

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they have decided to
return their red bandages.

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The afterbirth of
sudden dreams, waits

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on the stairs of the
breath, we must go on

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without any bitterness.

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Then a new land, our eyes will
study the anatomy of tears.

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We will wear our
mortality loosely,

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like the dew,
resolved in a silence,

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made of all the roads
we never walked.