A silent house. A mouse-silent woman
is breathing her dreams beside me. Earth-silent
is my wake, scared, stunned, without a memory.
I wake, solemnly waiting, and touching my love
hot between her legs. What is it I am waiting for?
Nothing. Nobody. What is the purpose of such a horrible eternity?
Death? Maybe I no longer exist. An illusion.
Spirit is cruel, it wreaks vengeance upon the body.
It knows it will never grow old
as the body will. Time doesn’t care.
Time destroys the silence of the house,
my wife’s dream, and my wake.