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From the beginning,
a second line emerges and is formed to
guide you somewhere…
(I fear an appalling triangle that never abandons the imagination;
First, I fear that I will soon lose my left eye and
Second, I fear that my future cancer will linger and wear its welcome,
I have seen it running in the family and on the screen, with my left eye intact.
Third and not least, I fear most for my memory.
Yesterday, I think, I left the key hanging by the brown lock I'd bought years ago, and I hadn't realized my loss until I came home.
The power was cut all along and I had to sense my way towards it.
The building, cancer-haunted itself, is now rife with memories I won't be able to embrace;
The few unstolen windows in my corridor, the starving kittens in all corridors,
The absurd phrases on the walls of the fourth floor where I occasionally borrow cigarettes, but
Up on the roof, I'm starting to think I won't be able to wipe this from my brain,
The view on the stagnant pond with the couple of ducks,
The petty solar power plant by the gate,
The special upper-class compound in the same neighbourhood, where once a girl invited me for a shag in her room and I declined, thinking me an imagined proud pauper.
But still, I have never thought I'd leave the key hanging by the brown lock I'd bought years earlier)
… and over here, I shall be taking you
down, to what might be the end,
the end of From-the-Beginning and these