the war never ended. i remember the dawn when

i was leaving my home. it was everywhere. it held an hatchet

behind the doorpost. on the bed it had piled a body draped

with a wolf's skin.

it looked like a peacock that was eying me dubiously

and getting ready to peck my hands. it lowered the blinds

on the windows. it was hiding so i couldn't see it.

i knew it was breathing down my neck

it tied up my breath and made things transparent

to which i had dedicated my vision.

it addressed me scornfully:

you who chew quartz you'll expect to vomit it

you'll learn to remember what you've forgotten

i am your knowledge that you waking predicted

that which you'll turn back to see will be darkness

the father who will never return

the sea off which flame will arrive

from which you'll go deaf.

who is stronger than war

i whom nobody asks about anything

an island from which only the name will remain

a usurer who'll loan to me

a weapon that kills before it's forged

or a snake that crawls in where it's no place for her.