My shadow here is fading on the drywall And my poems are lost | Thoughts Hub

My shadow here is fading on the drywall
And my poems are lost in stagnant air
It was born with seven active follicles
Eleven galloping horses
Name the day after the names of the birds to fly away
And at night I trot in the forgotten woods
Covering the long time between us
With isolation cloth
With a frightened laugh
With the prayer of light
Just so you don't get me out of a beat
It jumps whenever your shadow falls on it
I'm here making a mess
And wait for the day to end quickly
Objects in imagination then sleep early
And let the world roast slowly.