In a room where
loneliness and me
were left alone
at the peak of grief
the sound of the midnight
silence oozing quietly
echoes
like the drops of semen…

The dreams dead and
the hopes aged
hover around
dancing like ghosts…

Like the terror of the
garments the dead
have left behind,
the ticking clock
dissects the night into
mysterious monosyllables
carrying the
melodies of the mighty devil…

The sorrow sits heavily
on the shoulders
like the dog dreaming and drowsy
after lapping up sewage water…

The door is kept ajar
yet ye peep through the window.
But, to hide from your
secret eyes,
I have nothing on
but nakedness.