The Abyss of “Not”

Silver touches the walls – a suffocating oil,
Shadow grows like a monolith through the window’s mirage.
Beyond the horizon of pupils, in the depths of deserts,
A weightlessness arose – a clear vertical.

An arctic flash drank the remnants of warmth,
Frost blooms on the bend where the petals are black.
Through the veins, a dark silk of delusion flowed,
Leaving in the pulse the tart intoxication of longing.

Merged in a spasm – a blurred silhouette,
A lover-touch, devoid of weight.
A soundless dance – our recognized plot:
The light of memory carves shores upon the skin.

Roots grow into the darkness of the opened chest,
Washing away the boundary between “I” and the abyss of “not.”
In the embrace of twilight, beyond the world of men,
I will become an echo… or will you consume me?