M. A. Bottomly
Hacer Para Dehacer
There was no man at the window
But I said the word
And the shadow of a man appeared.
I had not been dreaming of shadows
Or of the reality that gives rise
To men out of shade,
But the shadow was as real as any man.
Mother, I cried out,
There is a man at the window.
He is eating a child’s heart.
I am being turned into a shadow.
It is only the curtain in the wind,
She rationalised,
Just as my face began to disappear.
Some months later
I stood at the window,
But on the outside, now and forever,
My eyes fixed on the figure of a child.
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