Stolen Twilight

You sleep in the restless rooms
of twilight stolen from the birds
in the broken hours of watches stopped
and roof tiles ripped away
when storms come in muted colours
and bright flashes of memory
as all is searched by outside powers
for inside reasons to run for the tide
as all topples and houses collapse
while the murals on the walls
of your veins explode
and take subway stations with them
down the new moon tunnels
down, down into the world
between daylight saving grace
and merciless seconds filling up
the minutes taken by surprising light
into dreamless void.