In the middle is a little black spot,
An odd thing to look at
If you consider the fact that
What creeps from that place
Is what keeps me alive.

But it moves in a slow pace;
And more and more I fear
That what comes near
Comes from within.

The black mark has reshaped its edges
And matches the form of my face
In the mirror –
Only that – now –
The pounding has stopped.

The darkness
diffuses.