Eclipse – Eva Weggelaar

I go to sleep like a small stone
in the palm of your hand,
to wander around alone,
time running through me like sand.

All the walls are painted white,
at a touch they move away;
for every dream you have to pay
and there’s no place to hide.

In the white hall
where fantasies die,
all you can remember is why
you were unknowingly waiting for the fall.

While I sleep like a small stone
in the palm of your hand,
the moon is a sliver of bone
covered with the blood they demand.

Kindly illustrating the many ways to drown,
the laughing crowd is a symbol of mockery,
showing you that it requires the payment of an appropriate fee
to keep the pocketful of hope you need to weigh you down.

To go, straight at the crow flies,
is all you can do;
there are no roundabout words to prove what’s true
when everybody lies.

I wake up like a small stone
in the palm of your hand
and grab my telephone
wandering around in an absurd land.
-©Eva Weggelaar-