In sudden confusion, it covers my face,
the peace of being in front of time.

How long has it been since I died?

I have not died,
but things I used to believe are gone.

I guess the first thing that should be erased of my mind is: “I”

I am… I am… the wind touching my face,
and so dissolving the pain given by my worries.

I am…I am… the water touching my skin,
and so cleansing my tears from the dirt of time:

I am… I am… impregnated of.

I am… I am… the fire exploding my past into trillion pieces,
in such a way, I can’t remember who exactly I was before dying.

Am I dead?

I am.. I am… what used to touch me.
I am… I am… what used to clean me.
I am… I am… and it is all bright.
Who are you?