I was not allowed to live my
life,
so I pretended to be dead
and interested solely in
things
a dead man could be
interested in:
petrified reptiles,
museum bric-à-brac,
fake evidence passed off as
truth.
I felt a great need to be
really dead,
and so at all times I wore
a mask made of wood
on which someone occasionally
drew,
with colored pencils,
the look of contentment,
impatience, desire, bliss,
or the look of someone who is
thinking
about an entirely different
matter.
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