I am not cold –

I am the cold:

The ice I touch

Is the heart hidden from me


I’m not in pain –

I am the pain,

And I devour me,

The sufferer turned suffering


I’m not alone –

I’m solitude itself,

Sitting in empty rooms,

Talking with her mouth closed


I am not dying –

I am being born;

I’m starting nothing –

I have never stopped