I had stand in the dark, stranded, off memory
White voices on a half Astron,
maybe it was a kindly gaze
maybe it was The Mother,
half blinded on descending skies
but
it was capricious
on a mouthful haze
The quietness of this night,
the quietness of this stilled night,
the quietness of the space
between empty shapes
I do not know
Why me is not another
Why am I watering unaligned words
orphaned from reason.
I had stand proud and in lies
therein laid my tired body
over the lunar desert of dried up eyes.
I am there.
Watching
the flowers carousel wooden dreams
where music had stopped:
bring me back
just bring me back
for I am stranded on your dark hair
night
I am
that
off
memory
Picture: Susu Laroche
