These days I sip 

on the light from the window. 

Sometimes the walls are dark, and they swallow 

it up, and there's none left to reach me 

April, my admiral, 

lighten my wings with your shrill whistle, 

[Alone in] Laughter, lamenting the lost light,

you don’t want to be the forgotten, the lost cause, the missed flight. 

Reason runs thin when your sadness is bountiful,