Sometimes you feel lonely to an empty one station.

 Sometimes you feel lonely

to an empty one

station where no other trains will ever pass.

With that hated lump in the neck

and an aching heart from so much beating,

as if it had been uprooted.

Sometimes the blind

sun so much illuminates and leads to paths

inexhaustibly full of commitment.

The nights appear full of Pleiades

that disorient the dreams they lived,

leaving them mad in the gutters.

Sometimes you give up and you're still standing

attached to a nomadic

faith knowing your own sacrifice.

You're falling for the 'it doesn't matter to me' conspiracy

with the virtue of avoiding fears by digging sand dunes

in the desert.