In the room
The clock filled with its minuteness the enormous dark.
It was the portrait of sadness. Of insomnia.
Father. It was the first time I visited your nights.
You sat there, biting into time alone,
Wounding the silence alone.
You seemed lost, but I felt that I've found you.

Background: in the Ghetto they live for the first time in one room. The brother begins feeling closer to the father. The brother speaks.