Thief; of echoes, of sound I make:
throat caked with honey and wine,
I did not know,
I did not expect to meet:
a thief in the night.
Where else would car echoes have gone?
Have all the birds flown away?
And to return, another day,
when the sky is cleared, but grey.
And the sun shines, but not here.
No alarm, no shutter, no click of newly-polished brogues:
I am awake when the attendance was called
And nobody answered.
The sun has set,
The moon has closed in on itself,
The stars are sheltered by obstinate clouds.
If my ears had lashes and pupils, and specks of gold within them;
I would not need to turn a picture upside down,
nor look upon a grandfather's face,
to know that it is midnight:
Light tastes, spoken, broken
I see nothing in molasses brown,
I have shattered the sky,
And the stars rain down,
but they are invisible to the eye.
So, when you ask why I am running too fast,
From the starry night.
I am running because of nothing;
To hear the beating of my heart.