And all that emerges here and there from the indefinitely
mutable mist is their quickly striding knees, and for a moment
only empty shoes go down the street.

Their movements and voices, half transformed just here and there,
uncertain somehow, drift around them sluggishly.

And under the lamps behind the windows of their houses
the empty vessels gleam fierily during the day,
deaf pianos and dumb seances in near – blind mirrors.

What shall be laid bare, when in the darkness on the tablet the medi
um suddenly is entirely exposed?

Like a sudden gunshot from close by, the stains of the void
soak on clothes. On the surface of things colours suddenly alight,
like sudden alighting from trains stopped right on the brink
of misfortune, and with unbroken silence they soak immediately into
scraps
of those pale faces. The tongue sticks. Manifold fear addresses them by
name.
Touch with fingertips. Be present. Do not vanish.
Do not break the connection.