I thought

I thought it was her who was groping down stairs
With nothing but a rag over her shoulders
I thought of her moistly shining softened skin
Moving upon a slippery bloodstained ground

I started to stagger strangely on my thoughts
Like stumbling down a dark passage while eyeless
On my dry lips the taste of a rotten loaf
On my tongue the rest of a pitcher with blood

I thought it was her who was groping down stairs
Then she broke a part of the wall from the vault
Shining a smile that contained voiceless words

As she walked through the light before vanishing
I thought it was her who was groping down stairs

Then I saw nothing
but a rag
on the moistly shinning softened skin
of my shoulders