The other who bears my name has begun to unknow me.
He wakes when I sleep,
duplicates my persuasion of being absent,
occupies my place as though the other were I.
He copies me in the showcases I do not love.
Sharpens my disused sockets
And renders idle the signs that join us.
Without me he visits the other versions of the night.
Following his example
Am beginning to unknow myself.
It may be the only way to start knowing ourselves.
