Losing grip

Another drip

A new cold


Air passing through a new hole on the white rocks of the pink mould 


No strength left

To pull the cord

Of the morning bell


A million diamonds sing inside an empty shell


Always crashing, screaming

Relentlessly bashing

Incessant, repulsive, backtracking hypotheses

Seldom finished

The beasts of the nighttime

Canfrenkin borentis asotzkee, potzkee borree 


Fingertips folding, deep in their tunnels black creatures make nests no needle can rupture