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Safe in the hearth the sisters sleep despite the discreet scramble
the big bed the roseate sheets the flowers laid flat under the skins
wrong and round ending and start I hardly anymore really tell apart.
Four blocks away behind the glass screen there stands history of itself an instrument
through which the wind goes through untouched but every now and then I'd hear a word or two
mouth best remain shut than agape before the sin our worth is even less than this
no, four blocks away behind the glass screen there drives by a train thrice a day thrice a night
not each time the same, of course; seasons command the destinations. The guards at every crossing
survive through the hours of their spell they drain by the rails all crossings are dark, that too.
A playful thought, vision that runs faster than the feet would ever. When the year opens and closes
when the one slides to the other the innards follow the shift
safe in the hearth we sleep despite their discreet scramble, never had we any sisters never did we get to know the flavor the touch the big bed the roseate sheets gardens laid flat under our skins not one would ever dare to sneak inside make us bleed disrupt our peace. I slip through the hours and they don't exist and we don't get old we exhaust our remaining beats invested in this interlaced speech
every now and then you'd hear a word or two, you'd better shut
you know about your worth and this,
that's how we are, not how we last.