Day burns down to night,

burns the edge of my soul.

In the night I break into sparks of suns

and become fires end in a dust of bones.

Night knifes my breath,

swallows whole my tongue.


Turn back Reverse return.


In the night I see the real,

concealed in the day's bright lie.

Eyes stitched shut. White teeth smile.

Sleep walks and talks

And feet mark time

To the drumless beat.

-Nicholas Powell