Gradually the end overflowed
Poured out along wood floors
Sought cracks amongst tiles
individually placed by hands
speaking to eyes

Putting out the fire
Inhaling trials of smoke
Tasting the lack of tomorrow
already replaced
by the return

Tasting the gain of tomorrow
Spread on top of scales
Bowing down to gravity’s pull
inside

Conscious going again
to the same house
abandoned on a street
adopted by trees
sleepy at the sound of a highway
Constantly copying the words of wind

To the same steps
a red carpet
leading up to brick


Walking through Walls