When the whirlwind strikes it will warn you
with eddies and fissures that open themselves
to danger but instead they breathe dust
heavy breath has to be lifted from the papers
a trace of it unburnt over decades
you strike the wind and it calls from above
you define the edges of the world with your feet

Long hard looks at the pathway from the tail to the terminus
A train passes you at the crossing and its endless
So you sit and wait thinking of its movement
Passing by but it does not stop
it continues to pass forever
And you sit and wait
impatience boils your skin
so we paint it with oils and myrrh
spread golden paste that makes time stretch

The ticking clock strikes fear into the heart
The wheels grind away the texture
the contrast starts to fade into a blend
and the realms of certainty is encased in a silver cage
we wear stones that say things

our shadow still follows us into the dark room
at the top of the stairs
we understand it is there because of the light
falling on our skins

It does the things we can’t
Unless we suffer under the penetrating