There is fire in the clouds, the feathers catch the flame
Streams and bodies pass on- some trot but others drag,
A waiting face, a loving hug- ”So late you came!”
The candle dances, my shadow hides (and seeks) from me
The door laughs, walls greet and the chairs wag.

The night wakes, she matures, she dresses for the kill
The weights much – to death do I kneel.
I cannot remember my hopes or my dreams,
I exist but I do not live.
I smile but do not laugh.
I inhale, do not breathe.