Speaking In Tongues
Scribbling In Voices
On the ragged rim,
On the coldest blade of the fight
Our dreams are dim
In the broken glass of the night.
Our whispers crawl
leaving sticky traces of sweat
On a whitewashed wall
Of lopsided, lumpish regret.
it's the moon that beams
From hypnotic, darkening skies,
Belching acid dreams
Drilling burning brains through our eyes,
Dreams that dance insane
When the reason shudders and moans,
When we see the pain
Through the cracks and holes in our bones,
Wicked dreams that lie.
Useless bulbs designed to explode,
Snowless clouds that die
In the dirty ditch by the road.
No more tears, oh please, no more...
Stop your heartbeat and listen, my sweet:
is it echo of far-off feet
Or delirious winds at the door?
No more questions, oh please, no more...
Or haven't they hurt us enough?
Life is stupid and love is bluff,
Winsome smile of an impudent whore.
No more visits, oh please, no more...
Let; the draught sleep in curtains this spring,
Sunny silence on its yellow wing,
Warm rectangle of light on the floor.