Love Is a Crimson Glow in the Shadow

Gloom, shadow, darkness is all around me
Watch, see, gaze every single invisible detail
Figures, shapes, hopes alternate in the silence remaining sibylline in my eyes
as the whispers that surround me, as material bodies they touch my pale skin
that in this place has taken the same boring color of everything else.
Chills, blood freezes, bones stiffen,
I do not move, but I squirm;
there is no sound, but I'm screaming.

I've been here forever, darkness is now home,
the smaller light would be a wound in my chocolate irises.
I know everything about me, the hue of the hair, such as the eyes,
my young face is a clear image in the mind, even though I have never seen myself.
My lips are pink buds, flowers unborn, virgins waiting for their moment.

Close my eyes,
nothing changes,
everything remains opaque,
the lack of light is almost blinding.

A glow.
I see it thanks to a reflection on the eyelid,
the skin is almost diaphanous.

Anything like that had never happened,
everything was always motionless, timeless, homogeneous.
Black had always been black, whatever that meant.

It approaches, waves and expands.
It is not a clear light,
but a crimson, bloody gleam.

New thrills, like those of the whispers,
who are now silent and watching on the sidelines,
frightened by the news.

Light,
you envelop me with your cold arms,
you're an ice flame.
A whisper:
"Love is a crimson glow in the shadow."