Vanitas, Veritas

in  a world lined with tiles of mirrors

I was crying my eyes out in my shard

together with the walls

between which the sun runs

back and forth from yesterday towards tomorrow

 

hanging the frames upon thoughts

nails stuck in the blind walls

I couldn’t figure out that time

is also material

gliding from fake ribbons

towards sacrum bone

 

with the earnestness of those who pay the customs

with the decency of those who don’t sit down

near the pole mast of an empty ark 

I was drawing my body’s map

bluer and bluer

 

I can still feel the waves rolling

under the last buoy

a skull like a black hole

with the effect of total absorption

of the light