The Matter of the Shadow
It is dawn and the man is awake.
Knock on the door:
The nagging questions arrived.
The ones you can't escape.
The man doesn't even get out of bed.
How could I answer the mysteries?
How would he know the weight of light?
How to guess what material the shadow is made of?
How to imagine the shape of the wind, time or thought?
Nothing you really need to know, he thinks.
Everything that saves me is here:
My heavy body on the soft mattress...
The concrete walls that shelter me and support the world...
Outside, the enigmas and doubts gradually disperse.
Later they will come together again, swell and build to his death.
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