The other side
Of your vision,
Of these walls
Of perception,
The hands pass twelve
As they pass four.
Some bustle,
Some sleep;
A person dies,
One is born:
Where you’re not!
The other side
Of your vision,
Of these walls
Of perception,
The hands pass twelve
As they pass four.
Some bustle,
Some sleep;
A person dies,
One is born:
Where you’re not!