Nocturnal

there is no room left

between my belly knot and sacrum’s saw

thick leafy trees have grown from bone marrow

their shadows blend on walls

enclosed between yesterday and tomorrow

 

I have started to walk stumbling

like an infant step after step

crushing carpet flowers into dewdrops

the forest inside me dins in reproach

 

nights are a sweet glue

pouring from an old cherry bark

trapping restless ants

days evaporate like naphthalene

white butterflies are also guilty

they chose to die too soon

 

I just have to be patient

a thread cut with front teeth

hardly passes through a needle