o madeleine

i'll tell you the truth:
there's a certain point after which
you stop dreaming,
and satin linings in rose and scarlet
are the only things that visit you
in your
(turmoil, thinking, waiting)
sleep;

and those sirens who bade you good night
have grown old and sunk to their watery graves,
and the wind has stopped whistling,
and the rain has stopped rapping,
and all you have left
is your
(unrest, breathing, curling)
silence;

and you will not see anything
and you will not hear anything
and you will not rest
but you will stay.