There’s nothing behind me.
I can almost see it
Billowing at my shoulders.
A cloak so black it cannot be.
I’ll glimpse it in a mirror,
Vast dark wings I know aren’t there.
On the street, in a shop window
My reflection halo’d by a hole in space.
I’m falling into madness; I whirl
To confront it. But it’s not there
And I know it’s not behind me
Taunting me with its absence.
I wonder how long I have
Before it bores of my starts and twitches,
And it enfolds, engulfs, envelopes
And all there is, is nothing.