DEDICATION: 7. Comments

Thus one absents out of spite
from a house, thus one leaves
to soil it,
leaving there everything for ever
in the disorder of any usual day.

One last time the new jacket
put it back in the dresser, with a smile: this
is how one should, I thought.
A line, a "See you later": like this.

At the hospital, the body - smaller
and already elsewhere, someone else.

Recognize who?
I said "Yes," and thought "No - it's someone else."
The finite pain.
Watching TV the whole night
for one night, four nights,
to confound the senses, sleep.

The asphalt a few steps away.
Soft - everywhere - the street.
"In there, he's in there," it blinds.
Now the hole, the shovel strokes.

I wasn't able to.
And the looks, the hands that touch where never
among strangers: the neck,
the hollow of the arm.
...
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