Start/Stop

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