stripped of my flesh and skin
i’m a lamp switched off
meditating on the consistence of reality
trying to avoid the sharp arrows
launched from my own bow
i make twists and turns
move restlessly from one room to another
a nomad in a house of horrors

sometimes i materialize myself
in the strangest of places
on a raft made of huge bones
drifting away in a drowned world
swarming with locusts

illusions are dying out
now and then i discover
a bug hiding under my pillow
and there are mornings
when i can’t open up
the door of my bedroom
because i don’t know
whether i’ll come out of a bad dream
or enter another