Dina and Dan Write After The Apocalypse However Vague

There is not the invention of zero and I wept

Or winter and if there is air I wept

It is not here—this the eye breathes and I wept
As if it were its axis it turns as it sees what it breathes and I wept

Gets in the way of the wind I wept.

But it’s not what we want we want it beside the bathroom

When we say wind we want it to break

Like a figure emerges, but we aren’t sure

If it’s through thirst for figures and I wept

Or it's the maker's faultless doing and I wept

We access the slack, then through your gaunt placards

Her narrow placards on the plains of dust and I wept

A misery of weeping though the wind wakes

Its head in someone else's hands and we see through it

The man who treads here takes repose and I wept

The perpetual stream of the streamless air and I wept

Air. I guess this means a cyclical current

And I would never write a word that turned into breath

Into glass into axes of light, air and winter and I wept

The time is for coming close