I place my hand
across my face
(these valleys and hills
of illusive identity)

facing faces
facing faces

I hold my skull
in a firm grip;

greet this house of hours
house of years
house of investigations

of long-lasting fears;

the bony sphere that travels
into archaelogical future
far beyond any ”me”
left in a swampy behind,
seeping out in all directions;

thin reminiscenses of dampness
across cheeks long gone