I carry my head
I carry my death

I carry the air
I carry nothing
But I’m still carrying
my death

I carry my soul
I gravitate towards it


(Somewhere between today and the day of my birth)
I found out the color
the texture
the scent
the body

of my death

It is not black
It is not white

It is creamy red
like a pillow

I am an astronaut
in my own body
I am carrying
my death

Listen to me, Garçon
I am carrying it all