it is neither [dusk nor dawn],
and [i] want to wake where [you] sleep.
in the [east],
the luster of the [sun] lies languidly in shredded ribbons against the [horizon].
the [west] possesses
the cold silhouettes of [yesterday].
[we] exist in a twilight hour,
zoetic in a bed of white [silence].
i want to hide the [steel],
the cold clocks of mechanics,
to let memories make marks
I II III IV V VI VII VIII IX X XI XII
somewhere on a street, i will meet [you] in a city full of numbers and we will count: zero, one, two …
i hear the church bells [ring ring ring]
in the distance, the hour diminishes.
we will become [light] and [matter]
close your [eyes]
right now we [travel]