each time          I blink
                    memories hunt me
a pack of relentless wild dogs
after my throat
where lungless syllables dream
of roaring
                    while they
                    their tongues stuck out
                    seem but silent
shadows
of the clouds
the wind plays with

                    this is not me
                    this is not real
                    I keep repeating
to other animals
behind the gauze
that graze on indifferently

                     my eyes are fixed
on my own shadow already overtaken
its legs up in the air
like those of my wooden horse
after I with one sweep of my hand
decided to win the battle

now if I stop
do not move and do not wink
                    will they run by and ahead
and I know
what was to happen
      will have happened
                    the glass shards in my cheeks
                    the powder odor in my nostrils
                    the light blaze in my pupils

enough to make
a hand             flip
the page

                     and
                    relegate everything to
fugue