The mirrors' ball

You will visit
the
ball
where everyone's faces
will be covered with masks
and I won't be able to find
you.

My face too will be
underneath the mask
and someone else
will find
me.

After,
on my way to home
I discover the masks,

you're a ghost
I'm a liar.

At home
I take my clothes off.
I'm standing in front of god,
there's a mirror in front of
me,

dead as matter
alive as process

both indestructible.

Then I lay down to sleep
wondering if that is the last
sky
the
nothing.

Night without a star
is the same night
I see
when I close my
eyes.

So it's a mask too
in front of a mirror,
of an enamel of my eyes.

And what's
behind
the mirror
is supposed to be
the
same.

I guess.