The Long Sleeper


one day, we will take revenge on the ones who hurt us
even if that means an inflection of freedom
we'll breathe a slow, limpid scent that expands through bowls of obsession.
this is the only time of the year that we know,
the sights are flooded with spasms and withdrawal.
we know that we have to leave November one day
even if that means that we need to create something bigger than us
even if we need to stop sleeping and forget the fresh meat
only open our legs for the vertebra of the night.
the long sleep will arrive lightly, resting on the wounds,
sucking the essence
and to be or not to be becomes always a matter of perspective.

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