the room stunk of dead piss or dying, nicotine and cheap cologne,

spinning above the city. there was no light & no darkness.

the world turned & stopped dead. in it's tracks.

the train left the station. unseen.

remains of freshly shaved cunt hairs glued to yr chin.

residues of last nights fucking lingering on the walls the carpet the fucking ceiling;

even the streets below were painted white.

the sun? was shining. still; there was no silence.

walking slowly hand in hand we submerged/emerged in a sea of naked streetlights.

the city was without regrets as we passed through canyons of emptiness& dull lights

dungeons of detachment, shadows of absence; behind the glass-container

pale secrets spread across broken windows, slowly touching yrself - undone

the bright red spots in front of yr eyes

secret stars

hollow stares

destruction in the palm of yr hand

the train left the station; empty and on foot.

     & then the rain

10 minutes before

            not a sound

the fires went out as we passed the blindfolded windows.

yet more nicotine and cheap wine; under the bridge.

the bride was in the water crying. no use to us anymore; so we left.

like the train; red from the station. through and to the end of a night,

the beginning of yet another. the bride swam out until she could swim no more;

we've not heard of her since.