There is a terrible existence within me

A tortured skeleton, an ossuary of disturbance

It glamours at my skin, it listens, it listens

Where hunger speaks of canibalism

And scratches at the stone floor of my chest

In blurred echoes of a censorship

That erases occurrences on a Ducassian

Dissecting table with an infinite whisper

Of morbid intention in disordered silence

Shouts with immense calibrations

Its pale impatience, its pale impatience

In agonized incantatory obduration