I am a worm corrupting pages of your memory,
Displayed on ivory desks in your body. I mess
The meaning of your nights, the spelling of your days. Your leap
Between two poles, I have made you unsure of your place.
A virus, I mutate your thoughts and change your needs, until
You are afraid of yourself: a cocoon, you grow up
And hide a stranger in your flesh, with dusty wings, who will
Collect the parts of your tenderness split in the dusk
In eyes and hands you did not want to keep. I am a mine
Concealed below your intentions; a danger despite
The iron structure of your rules. I'm a guerilla spy.
I am a thief you invited, who wants all your parts.