Alive.

I have seen myself dead.
Last night.
A relief to escape all forms of meaning.
Another escape last night.

I chose the summer evening to go out.
Or perhaps it chose me.
Anyway, I went out.
No end, no meaning.

The moon wasn't there.
Perhaps a leisure leave.
I finally get rid of those scattered distortions in the air.
The sky, the sun, but the moon wasn't there.

My body lay suspended between gravity & flies doing balancing acts.
My body couldn't see its shadow.
A relief.
Moreover, gravity had lost weight.

The people who will have my pictures are around me.
They are sweating a thing called heat.
I am now the outsider on permanent leave.
Others hold my cold flesh for a reprieve.

Silence has followed me here.
Anyway, she is the only feeling I recognise.
The others are cryptic graffiti.
And like myself, done without paint.

The sense of the falling light beckons me.
Me and my companion are to part.
She was not able to be mine anyway.
Or maybe she simply didn't trust me.

I am to reenter the world of dictionaries.
And perhaps an encyclopaedia.
I am to be again.
I dispose Death till the next time.

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Am in the form of words.
Can't do a thing.
I had no hand in the whole affair.
Rebuilt unsatisfactorily.