They talk.
They talk again.
Again,
Again,
Again!
They talk to me
Again and again
And not a thing they’re saying
I can understand.
But nevertheless,
I listen to them, again!

I look at them.
I look at them again.
Again,
Again,
And again!
I look at their shape:
How formless it is,
Their shape,
Like the shape of the fog,
Like the shape of a snake.
Whispering,
Slithering,
Hissing and creeping
Talking, talking and walking
Around me;
They never stop!

And once again
I find myself
Encircled by their thoughts.
Again,
By their formless form.
Again,
By their sour voice.
Again,
And again, and again,
I’m encircled by their neverending
Stares, tongues,
By their neverending words.

But proudly I walk
Again,
Again,
And again!