Nocturne Sleep is a map of glass,
No matter where it leads,
You are lost;
The night may speak to you with its wings,
Its songs made of silk,
Yet you know only your dreams,
Of walking where the streets are water,
Copper gutters dripping,
their blue light through the halo of gas lamps,
You following the rhythm of boot heels,
As lightning soundlessly cracks the fragile sky—----
All is forgotten now;
The glass darkens, the mute stars,
Show where you have been,
Your feet are moving without you.