The wind wipes away footprints, lifts tiles destroys places
just solitude without violence, without voices
you don’t even hear the heart beating
lost figures
if you remain in the same position
thought does not work, blood does not circulate.
No one behind the door
the invisible being hates this reality
nobody finds his or her place
men want to be women women
want to be men
empty place, lost place, deception rubs off
the hills change places
mass graves bordered by multiple bodies
peace over death
There is no door, the crossed over corridor
the stolen happiness
faces lie in wait, the split face
light escaping, life beginning
silence over the wound
Who will lament the loss?
Absolute solitude wounding me
neither spectres nor voices, a door turns on itself
a door opens, no one comes
thrown into the void
closed door, doors open to the void
the infinite horizon peopled by beings seen through
multiple mirrors
taking different and individual courses
green, yellow, blue spaces
red mouths, black mouths
Multiple smiling faces
no one loves anybody
pretence, imposture
in the face, in laughter, in bodies, in words
house empty of voices, solitude and desire
the wind wipes away footprints, lifts tiles, attacks hearts.
* * *
Someone moves discreetly in the night
he smokes deeply while the sound of a harmonica
seeps into bodies and walls
the proximity of an unknown being observing the hills
would frighten off at night any serene soul.
Sudden moves startle my rest
my galloping heart throws me down
a clumsy woman comes out into the corridor
beings of night people my space
absolute stillness, shining eyes pursue the shadow
I advance, I advance
I kick red apples that roll as I pass.
Someone at the back of the room
under the light of the moon writes:
Give yourself up to the man positioned in your room
I am the night you are solitude
desire is a tree in which light drowns
all that we possess is in this fire.
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