The mystery of the self,
in a black room at night,
a train whistle comes and goes, far away,
and the bed could be any bed, in any room where you’ve ever slept,
featureless and familiar.
The world ends at your skin,
the distant whistle is your own breathing.
Your body, to itself, sounds like it’s miles away.
in a black room at night,
a train whistle comes and goes, far away,
and the bed could be any bed, in any room where you’ve ever slept,
featureless and familiar.
The world ends at your skin,
the distant whistle is your own breathing.
Your body, to itself, sounds like it’s miles away.