Midnight
That which is not mine calls for me
And I belong to it with every call
A hesitant woman along the street
Breaks the darkness into waves
I scream behind the windows
Of my room built upon my screams
In this City permeated with silence
Where mute faces and rambling smiles
Cast spells over the walls
I hesitate along the street
Far away is my room
I flap with white pages in the darkness
And every crumb of darkness sticks upon me.
* from Enoch’s Book, dating from about 164 B.C. (En.LXXUl-14)
EN 
MK