“There is a line by Verlaine that I will not remember again.
There is a street nearby that is off limits to my feet.
There is a mirror that has seen me for the last time.
There is a door I have closed until the end of the world.
Among the books in my library (I’m looking at them now)
are some I will never open.
This Summer I will be fifty years old.
Death is using me up, relentlessly.” - Borges
