A flash. You fell like a shadow on sodden clay –
A bloodless double, a silent protocol.
I drink the darkness, tart and wormwood-bitter,
While you froze, bypassing the steel’s sting.
Shall we smoke? This stain on frozen concrete
Fears no concussion, knows no weight.
Despair hammers its pulse into the temples,
You are but a phantom. You have no need for gods.
Don’t vanish when magnesium burns in the stifling air,
When the heavy monolith of the sky collapses.
From now on, we are clamped in a black union –
An imprint of fatigue, an exhausted limit.
Tell a joke! Say: this is merely a stage,
Where gloom and flame divide the square.
You will not flinch. Your posture is humble.
Presence absent. A slow decay.
The Double
33