The Critical Distance W S H Jones - And Also The Trees



Never beginning, never ending days

Days when the ceiling is so low

I cannot stand

And the blunted knife presses into me

Melting in the airless heat

The walls close into me

Nudging me this way and that

>From one to another

Like nervous thunder

Thudding in my head a heart

Is beating out the boredom

Nudging me this way and that

>From one to another

Like nervous thunder

Until I fall to claustrophobic sleep

And the ever-watching walls lean over me



But when I wake I feel alone

There is nothing but a vast blank floor

And although the walls are watching

I can never reach them

No matter how far I walk

I can never reach them



And the knife begins to shine

Hisses in my hand

Slices through the always blank distance

So I can see my hooded girl

Swipes through the whitewash nothing

That shrouds my hooded girl

She walks to me across the furrowed fields

I see a human headed fish revolving in her belly

And the knife it sparkles

Like the piercing yellow mirror sea

And slashes open dead sailors clouded memories

Spills their seaweed dreams over me

Spill their seaweed dreams over me

Spill their seaweed dreams over me

Spill their seaweed dreams... over me

As I lie on the coral

Amongst the driftwood



And the ever watching walls lean over me



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