The night a killer with retinas that burn,
all verses running mad
Fists of silence coming out of the dark,
opening up to grab
Fingers choking the last vocal chord,
strangulation by command
The quiet finality of a voice now gone
—gripped in my own hands
(Dreamsleep: March,2020)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem