Manoeuvering near the abyss in dark storm,
or balancing on unseen threads over the deep
I try to sleep but sleep and movement seem
absurd, my mind and body live by means
of quietness in dull and nightly hours.
I dream of children that are grown ups now
and yet as babies they keep falling in black holes,
their fragile limbs are out of reach and gone.
I cry each time the abyss grins at me and hear
the echo of his laughter til I am awake.