When your eyes burn
When your hands hurt
When your legs have given up

We are walking, making
Long strides over
Sentimental roads
So we turn inwards
Again
Maintaining distance
We face the failures
And dance on the graves
Of whatever has been forbidden

We are strings vibrating
We are the silent things, naming
Themselves in the dark
Gestating creatures with hearts
And minds, finding silence between the sparks
Carbon ceilings made out of cardboard
We are collecting rainwater and art
We endarken danger
And dance on holy ground
It sounds like fun
When you don’t have any more hope
To hold you back
So you attack the road by running
Yet come home to find yourself, alone again
You fold your hands and make life into living
Somehow, somewhere
We were all these powers and forms
And comfort held no remorse
Where no one had ever faulted you at all