The House of the Heart
another one like that day,
but I read in the newspaper time defines
that nothing can ever come back.
the density of it...
and we falling backwards,
going through the layers,
for ever,
without time defining what is always.
there is no intelligence that understands
what I saw in the house of the heart:
it was youme there,
falling down,
not knowing which way to destroy,
thrusting knives into the shadows,
piercing the layers.
You can sleep I said.
keep sleeping.
we are weak for it all,
not worth our kind heart
hitting a nightmare world.
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