Translucent bodies,
	veins inside leaves,
	
	we have no voices	
nor do we believe.

Happily censoring our children;
	we censored ourselves

	long ago.
Inside the vision

there stood an apartment building torn
	into streaks of sun.

	Here is the friend who
betrayed me, he returns to wind: now pick

a card. Wrong again.
	I lift a bruise from my leg.

	My lips move when I sleep.
When I think in sleep

where is the broken friend? 
	And there was no one

	on the hillside, no eyes were dark,
no one interrupted

the movement towards a belief
	offering no hope.

	Actually I own the future, I sunbathe
in it, I write it down.