Lined like rivers, they’re walking 
alone forever with eyes on their backs
;
but the thing about eyes is that they
never see themselves.

By the lake a man in red is bathing in
golden fire. His nails dig into the 
Sand, and behind him is a house of
thieves who have been robbed of their
thievery; two men and women bind
their souls and ask if he is dying.
On the river, they walk past each other
knowing nothing.

Lined like snakes who have been strangled to obey,
they’re walking alone.
Lined like tongues cut off,
they talk no more.