It’s
her again, by your crystalline unconsciousness awaken.You
can only follow her in this ruins. The enormous sun drapes her with
blood. You have to follow her – you cling to her scarves, burning
your fingers.Her
old bodies are smilingly sleeping under a silent bell; she stole her
form to the time she cursed. Her hands on your throat, your face she
lifts up, the speaking she orders and refuses. You only have to
follow her. As the ransom of space, the jewels you dig up, each one
duller than the last, and that she carries triumphantly.She
annexes your hands – you don’t know if your youth protects you.You
follow her around the ruins.All
the stones rotate around her, who still spares you, but for how long?You
lead her to an intact arch, since she wants to leave the void so
badly. Before you, she meddles into the light and her face
disappears. All the stones fall down. The arch is broken.What
will the ones from under say? Will they see her? Or perhaps is she
animated void, her magic so little the void changed, she whose
gestures intimate you to fall silent.Only
taking down the lamps to surround your night.
soliloquy II.
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