What desire or fear lurks in your eyes, traces of light in the night?
Vague sense of death, what holds you back and imprisons you in the invisible silence of waiting?
Something unrepresentable that does not go back and gets lost, like a scrap, a residue,
Illusion of existence
of apparitions that crystallize into presences,
black space of ghosts,
you return from a distance, from a long absence,
symptoms of stone that eat away and dissolve quickly,
as in a dream,
unconscious images of time.
You who cross the threshold of disappearance,
sentry lost in the night,
changed into the matter that surrounds you.
Stared in your own death,
dust of time.