when times
turn to lines,
and we deform
through indigenous
degeneration-

we, as the ones
that had time stand
perfectly still
at midnight,
between the past
and the
upcoming,

gave in to the
sloth, the
gluttony, the
pride, the
wrath, the
lust, the
greed, the
envy,
and chose to
thrive
eternally,

on the
absurd.

on the absurd,
with the
cheeks and foreheads,
on the absurd
with the
black dresses, shirts
and smiles,
on the absurd,
with all its wobbling,
wishes
and hungover
mourning
in the
morning.

we gave ourselves up
to be groped by the force of time,
and time ended up
making love to us,
*******
majestically.

the table fills
with empty cups,
and we
dance
until
the cups topple,
lay a new,
crackling
plastic
carpet

underneath
our restless hearts
and
beating feet.