I started gradually, at first only in the afternoon,
to close my eyes
to my life
forehead between my fingers to cut myself off from the neon lights.
The cars are wide and there is always room to sit. The time between each station is very long.
Now, at any time, for any distance, I let my head go against my hand.
They, also, are here, sleeping
these travellers going through their life
from point A to point B, in a dreamless sleep.
But yet, no, in these microsleeps I dream :
. The car goes backward
. They are here, the sleepless dreamers
. tireless inhabitants of a train without any programme
. at last.