Poets

Earth which I breathe in the heavy night, earth for hunger, earth for thirst; my soft warm breast is filled with blood, my lungs are clogged with earthen air.

When Time was, we sat and talked, so long as time was; about death. Time had it all, makes time, of time there is ever more. You are a little baby, now your little voice still cries, you've only just arrived.

Yet coiledroundabout Night with elastic galactic body The dark duration Now evening spreads; light still falls