Not the shadow of the other

 On ne peut pas frapper la propre ombre. Not the shadow of the other. In formidable vertigo of living. Shattered chest times. From a distant dark. And I, deeply confused. Although ajar. Stagnant and burning myself, my arms wrapping, in tight circles, around my body. I create ears to better listen to you. Drunkenness of the arms and ears. My neck in dances to catch your air, your passage, the freshness of your being. You clean up my broken pieces.

Sense, then ex-isto as a hypo/thesis.