I did hear the whispers then, Shadowy faces scattered over nameless bends; They were dreams with frayed edges, with tattered ends, Old and drained after running over and over in the head. They had voices and screams to which the world was deaf, And the world had ways which they could never take. We are but words put together without much care, We live feeding on the corpses of those living inside us, those that are dead. Love is nothing more than a few moments that you rewind and reset It is not the poetry that fell on your rooftop and then froze to death. Your dreams and me, both made love on the bed you left me that day, The ghosts of time heard me cry, but none of blood and flesh came. Years will pass and you will see what I left back for you, Think of me then, with a tear, as little more than your stray sundew.