silence

Silence is light, and gleams like a silvery tissue. You may confuse it with a silky shawl and put it around your shoulders. But, as soon as you get used to its surprising metallic coldness, it turns into iron and encloses you tightly, and then it becomes a powerful magnet, attracting all the silence of the world and beneath, and, soon, you are no more than a ball of bruised shivering flesh overwhelmed by silence's burden.

running ghosts of words

How to survive
panic to the blank page
or to the white sheets of rambing ghosts
at night?

One hides her head
like an ostrich, under the blankets,
under the very same sheets
that scare her…

How to survive fear to the white page
but hiding under piles of dirty sheets?

Ghosts of words
run after me with all their might.