Between going and staying the day wavers,in love with its own transparency.
The circular afternoon is now a baywhere the world in stillness rocks.
All is visible and all elusive,all is near and can't be touched.
Paper, book, pencil, glass,rest in the shade of their names.
Time throbbing in my temples repeatsthe same unchanging syllable of blood.
The light turns the indifferent wallinto a ghostly theater of reflections.
I find myself in the middle of an eye,watching myself in its blank stare.
The moment scatters.
Motionless,
I stay and go:
I am a pause.
