Drunken Hands - Christian Kjellvander

Wearily and weathered

Lungs filled with new

There’s a days worth of sky

Hovering over you

No it’s not the sand

Nor is it the dreams

That now blow across the acres

As clothes loosen in their seems

One by one — coming undone

We scurry to be one up on the sun

You landed here with fear

Gone north and put to rest

The cross around your neck is now

Buried in your chest

Sleep for the sake of the night

And wake in the hope of finding a light

Throw your drunken hands

Across the scenery

And your drunken thoughts on temporality

Everything lay so still, almost dead

Except the blood-red sky over head

Sleep for the sake of the night

And wake in the hope, but fumble in light

Throw your sunken dreams

At the scenery

With your sunken hopes

For longevity

The country lay as still as the dead

Save the blood-red moon up ahead