Everyone asks me to leap in the air, to tone up, to play football, to run, swim and fly. Very well, then.

Everyone advises me to rest,
everyone sends me doctors,
looking at me strangely
What's up?...

Everyone picks at my writing
with unbreakable forks,
looking,
no doubt,
for a fly.
I'm afraid.

I'm afraid of everyone,
of cold water,
of death...
That's why, in these short days,
I'm not going to listen,

I'm going to pen myself up
and lock myself away
with my most perfidious enemy,
My Selves.