So many days passing quickly
that it is too much for us,

sand beating the windows
until they are fogged with fine scars,

cliff rising like a vivid coal
in the pale distance.

Doorways veering from a vortex peak
falling down like straw.

Floating on some floor
smiling at a stranger's ceiling
capturing a small spark
from a written wall.

Beaming through shingles
and starry roofs
to land an astral
beginning, the verse
of a chorus winding down.