Velvet Darkness

Each day, countless times
I pass through the forest where time breathes,
crossing the thin border of existence.
The unrelated trees, standing in mute rows,
begin to feel familiar, almost kin;
within their austere grace
I encounter myself again,
wandering inside the residual darkness
left behind by betrayed virtue.

My griefs are like birds
permanently stationed beside a window,
motionless,
their wings entwined with time’s indifference.
The world accelerates away from me;
I remain solitary.
At times, lightning fractures the sky,
and the bones within me shudder,
as though this were the moment
The self must undergo conversion.

When the stars go out
in the next dawn,
I will run into darkness
at the speed of light.
Everything I have will be left here
the body of tenderness,
burned down to scorched charcoal,
still faintly warm.

This life, galloping like a wild horse,
will stop,
in a single breath.