Roger Singer

From the heart

a factory of tears

where walls rebound

or block.

The eyes watch the hands

fall away;

they see better in darkness.

Each breath folds into

corners

as voices pull at the blood

to speak

edging out truth and lies.

Ears hold the place of

faraway;

the last words become the

knife

separating flesh from reality.

Wisdom is the rain between

moments

just out of reach.