Again

My pupils almost totally enlarged together with the smoky iris, 

by now restricted in a cerulean fiber, were perpetually 

absorbing the looming darkness of the room, endless; while 

my body stood still and, even if I tried to get rid of  

suffocating sheet, I couldn’t control it.

I, standing, let the darkness take and take up in me 

because subconscious and suppressed conscience was aware 

even if I were able to stand up and to untie 

the delicate chains of immobility, even than it would have been useless: 

the night would have subjugated me in the same way, 

making me a mass of ureal matter.

Then I felt impalpable shadows penetrating me and raping me, 

pushing inexorably the remaining of my cognition away 

and abandoning me, cold, in a hellish bedlam of ephemeral 

and impetuous senses, while the essence poured out of me and 

I perceived it as it was: warm, of a purplish red, velvety.

Worn by that oblivion without way out, I look again toward you, 

even if you closed me out one more time, wet by soft drops 

of  salty rain awaitng of what doesn’t exist.