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