I have seen many things, the one thing
Often called the many of the one, by faces
Or faceless voices, faces and voices of some sort
I have seen something and now dread consumes me

I have heard many sounds, the one sound that deafens,
Though I have heard and I hear only that one sound that deafens
The deafness soothes as it shrieks and I, dumb
I shriek unheard in this busy, empty world

I have tasted all desires, the one desire that feeds the many
The desire: desire itself, the desire that desires desire
He is long become dust in my heart, my void
The desire, a blazing fire, gone to a tepid indolence

I have felt many skins, the one skin wrapping all flesh
The sole flesh, gripping the neckflesh of the many
Numbness now spreads, my fingers fumble
I can no longer feel the blood under his skin

There is no smell except the one smell of cold woodfires
There is only the one smell which sheathes all smells
All smells which are the one smell which is no smell at all
I miss that smell, the color of twilight soot, I miss this smell

But I will miss him most of all.
(Him and his smell.)