Don't trust him

When he turns his back

He looks at you

Don't trust him

When his eyes are closed:

He still looks at you



I fled, I fled

Devouring the space

But the shapeless bulk

Was chasing me -enraged-

Breathing my footsteps

Unsated with killing me

Slowly

Nailing my incandescent thoughts

Along the border

Of insanity

In a place where

A procession of fleshly numbers

Slides incessantly

Into the ironic waters

Of the cosmos

Seeking to remember

The sense

Of the impossible word:

Escape