DARK ROOM
Slowly gently I am unrolled from my hiding-place.
then I spring back in a rolled up shape onto myself,
the unshakeable memory of an earlier form.
Why am I negative, the non-being, the un-here?
It is only when you are a chemical that I am here for you,
effervescent reaction in sepia stills.
There is only a terrible silent loneliness in this dark room-
do you see? For I am a ghost, gracefully slowly
coming to life in the light. Do you see?
But what is this-? your fingerprints on my skin,
and then I am suffocating slowly gently