Joy Cancer

At first, how could one know?
In unforseable sharp falls of hope, one felt
One felt something airy going astray
One felt, one felt
Assigning to the invertebrate grays of late afternoons
This punctual state of collapse of the ingenuous assurance
This fleeting nausea
Then the syndrome took in scale
Emancipated itself to the point of bursting the laughters into splinters
Radiant, not much anymore, not much shattered by the whiff of early lilacs
Neither the mirages to stroke at night, late
It is there, the diagnosis
Written on the sides of dilapidated piers
In these malignant tumors strewn over the floors where one used to dance, dance
While carrying the very pure burden of being
The invasion took place in a leaded silence
When one forgot, when one believed, still, that it was not the time
Under the proliferation of metastases without qualms
Rustling, having condemned every moment to get lost into the darkness of termite mounds
One knew, one knew
Behind its marmoreal smile
The Joy slowly became cachectic
The tremors of its innocence reduced to a swaying
Last rocking of the blazing times
Where gaiety that was throbbing in each cell nucleus
Is now motionless under the sarcoma

May 2015