Birds have fallen silent

The cloud, atilt, above us

Cold raindrops fall

In the forest

 

Murderers voices

stitched firm to banners

blowing in an

endless breeze

 

Here houses bear no masks

Forest windows open

slowly

to an hotel room

full of love

 

In our consciousness

are rooms

to which we`re led

blindfolded

 

One night was moonlit

but no more

for sunken deep

as arid imprints

in steps of stone

like an orthicone

I stopped

asudden in the street

to open with a gritty

glistening moonlit key

the doors of

darkness