in your sleep

Part of the day is older faster
the time that gets lost gets lost right now
I am no bon vivant nor particularly
useful neither but a wizard of time
at least, I am.

Late afternoon how many
more as slow as this yet not alone.
And warm, of course,
pleasure/horror like desire
for a banker or some other
dubious dude.

No more to say today, how strange
to know that one will wake and
yet not speak for hours yet to come.
I will see snow again, and yet