Rung By Rung

if you manage elation, in stasis it comes
the masturbation, or the newscast of a minimal bomb.

when you flee from the station, in engines that gong.
the conversation, the hesitation
or the figure 5 gold.

if you manage vacation alone, i know i know.

to all the people in reservations of one
asleep within dream on the carpets of dawn.
running their fingers on the branches like arms
whispering i know, and i will not tell

this could be the sun, or a hole in the dark.
and run by run they put out the flames.