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■ Escapism
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I passed by you on the empty street
with my coat hugging my body I peered at you without craving as if you were a hollow billboard through your tattered patches I felt the cold and the dirt the solitude the aching for the death’s mercy with your blue lips gaping wounds on your body elbows scraped by the asphalt on which you curled up to sleep without praying I brushed by and didn't touch you I didn't lift you up and your dry-clots I evaded them warily because my coat was snug on me and unblemished and I rushed to breach the wall of cold toward my own oblivion warm and oppressive devouring you never saw me you knew I spurned you you knew that, blind to the essence of passing, I drifted through you and then with delicate strokes as a painter blending the shades on a canvas you seeped through me full of frost and shame and you faded, dying in a corner of my eye the children were frolicking with a snowman further up the luminous street and instead of a heart, they stabbed a bigger icy ball on its chest
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