the steps crawl so quietly
yawned, erased cycles that refuse to stop the goods for a moment
and among the raps of homesickness
I found you
in the hopeful hand that has become cracked
in a fast pace of time
I see you, like getting ready
refuse to return, and
leaving behind the traces of longing,
who still remain in the skull room
though occasionally he was wandering
and churning
the sky blanket has been lowered
the sun succumbs to the cloud clusters that present the orange
on the edge of the horizon
ushering restless prayers back on the bunks
repel all the memories remain sleeping in the soul
about any taste,
which still lags behind every inch of the universe
spinning in the frenzied chatter of the gulls
with the clouds of escort he turns to you; though it looks vague
convey a loud clamor asked