You have kept the glass shard in your pocket for thirty years, pressing it against the skin of your thigh until the fabric wore thin and the cold edge of the fragment bled a faint, rust-colored stain into the cotton, a private wound you have carried across the Atlantic, through the smog of the city that swallowed you whole, where the air tastes of iron and old rain and the neon lights buzz with a frequency that seems to vibrate in the hollows of your teeth, a sound that is not quite a sound but a pressure, a weight that settles on the chest like snow accumulating on a roof that was never built to hold such a burden. You are here, in this apartment that smells of damp plaster and the metallic tang of the heating pipes, and you are trying to remember the face of the woman who gave it to you, the way her eyes reflected the breaking of the mirror, a fracture so perfect it looked like a map of a country that no longer exists, a place where the trees grew sideways and the river ran uphill into the sky, and you are trying to remember if she was your mother or if she was something else, something that wore her skin like a coat that had been taken off a hook in a coatroom long ago, and the doubt is a living thing, a small, sharp insect burrowing into the soft tissue of your memory, gnawing at the roots of the truth until you are not sure if you are the one who is broken or if the world is merely a reflection of your own internal shattering, a mosaic of pieces that no longer fit together but that you have glued back with a glue made of silence and fear and the desperate, consuming love of a child who cannot let go of the parent who is dissolving into the ether.

The city outside your window is a labyrinth of shadows and light, a place where the buildings lean in to whisper secrets to one another, and you move through it with the careful, measured steps of someone who knows that every step might be the last, that the ground might give way and reveal the void beneath, a void that is not empty but full of things that have no name, things that look at you with eyes that are not eyes but holes in the fabric of reality, and you have learned to walk with your head down, to keep your eyes on the pavement, because to look up is to invite the gaze, and the gaze is a hunter, a predator that feeds on the certainty of your existence, and you have forgotten the name of the street where you first arrived, the street where the woman with the glass shard waited for you, her face a blur of gray and white, her hands trembling as she placed the fragment in your palm, her voice a whisper that was also a scream, a sound that cut through the noise of the traffic and the cries of the gulls and the distant wail of a siren, a sound that said, keep this, keep this, it is the only thing that is real, it is the only thing that will save you, and you have kept it, you have kept it against your skin, you have kept it in your dreams, you have kept it in the spaces between your thoughts, and now you are here, in the present, which is a place that is always slipping away, always moving forward like a train on a track that leads nowhere, and you are trying to find the exit, the door that will lead you out of this labyrinth of memory and madness, and you are trying to find the truth, the truth that is hidden in the shards of the mirror, the truth that will tell you who you are, the truth that will tell you what you did, the truth that will tell you why you are still here, still breathing, still bleeding, still holding the glass.

You remember the house, the house that was white and yellow and red, a house that was also a face, a face that was also a house, a house that was also a memory, a memory that was also a dream, a dream that was also a nightmare, and you remember the way the light fell through the windows, the way it pooled on the floor in golden circles, and you remember the way your mother moved through the light, her figure a silhouette against the brightness, her hands moving in the air as if she were conducting an orchestra of invisible instruments, and you remember the sound of the music, a sound that was not music but a vibration, a hum that was in the walls, in the floor, in the air, a sound that you could feel in your bones, in your blood, in the marrow of your soul, and you remember the way your father looked at you, his eyes dark and deep, his face a mask of calm that was also a mask of rage, a rage that was also a love, a love that was also a violence, a violence that was also a care, a care that was also a neglect, a neglect that was also a presence, a presence that was also an absence, an absence that was also a haunting, a haunting that was also a protection, a protection that was also a prison, a prison that was also a home, a home that was also a tomb, a tomb that was also a cradle, a cradle that was also a grave, a grave that was also a beginning, a beginning that was also an end, an end that was also a beginning, and you are trapped in this loop, this circle, this spiral, this descent, this fall, this plunge, this dive, this drop, this sink, this submerge, this drown, this suffocate, this choke, this gasp, this wheeze, this pant, this breathe, this inhale, this exhale, this live, this die, this be, this not be, this is, this is not, this is, this is not, this is, this is not.

The woman who is your mother, or who was your mother, or who is your mother, or who will be your mother, or who has never been your mother, or who is not your mother, or who is your mother, she is here, in the room, in the corner, in the shadow, in the light, in the air, in the silence, in the noise, in the space, in the time, in the mind, in the heart, in the soul, in the body, in the blood, in the bone, in the flesh, in the skin, in the hair, in the eye, in the ear, in the nose, in the mouth, in the tongue, in the tooth, in the gum, in the jaw, in the cheek, in the brow, in the forehead, in the scalp, in the skull, in the brain, in the nerve, in the cell, in the atom, in the electron, in the proton, in the neutron, in the quark, in the string, in the field, in the force, in the energy, in the matter, in the mass, in the weight, in the gravity, in the pull, in the push, in the motion, in the rest, in the speed, in the acceleration, in the velocity, in the momentum, in the impulse, in the force, in the work, in the power, in the efficiency, in the entropy, in the chaos, in the order, in the pattern, in the structure, in the form, in the shape, in the size, in the color, in the texture, in the taste, in the smell, in the touch, in the sight, in the hearing, in the feeling, in the thought, in the emotion, in the will, in the desire, in the need, in the want, in the hope, in the fear, in the love, in the hate, in the joy, in the sorrow, in the anger, in the sadness, in the happiness, in the misery, in the pleasure, in the pain, in the joy, in the grief, in the anger, in the shame, in the guilt, in the pride, in the envy, in the jealousy, in the lust, in the greed, in the gluttony, in the wrath, in the sloth, in the pride, in the vanity, in the arrogance, in the hubris, in the megalomania, in the narcissism, in the egotism, in the selfishness, in the egocentrism, in the self-absorption, in the self-indulgence, in the self-gratification, in the self-satisfaction, in the self-fulfillment, in the self-realization, in the self-actualization, in the self-transcendence, in the self-liberation, in the self-redemption, in the self-salvation, in the self-rescue, in the self-recovery, in the self-healing, in the self-repair, in the self-restoration, in the self-renewal, in the self-rebirth, in the self-resurrection, in the self-immortality, in the self-eternity, in the self-infinity, in the self-omniscience, in the self-omnipotence, in the self-omnipresence, in the self-unity, in the self-oneness, in the self-wholeness, in the self-completeness, in the self-perfection, in the self-ideality, in the self-utopia, in the self-paradise, in the self-heaven, in the self-god, in the self-divine, in the self-sacred, in the self-holy, in the self-blessed, in the self-beneficent, in the self-benevolent, in the self-kind, in the self-compassionate, in the self-empathetic, in the self-sympathetic, in the self-understanding, in the self-acceptance, in the self-forgiveness, in the self-love, in the self-care, in the self-nurturing, in the self-feeding, in the self-watering, in the self-growing, in the self-flowering, in the self-fructifying, in the self-bearing, in the self-giving, in the self-sharing, in the self-servicing, in the self-helping, in the self-aiding, in the self-protecting, in the self-defending, in the self-guarding, in the self-shielding, in the self-covering, in the self-hiding, in the self-concealing, in the self-disguising, in the self-masking, in the self-veiling, in the self-obscurating, in the self-dimming, in the self-darkening, in the self-blackening, in the self-shadowing, in the self-shading, in the self-shadowing, in the self-eclipsing, in the self-obscuring, in the self-hiding, in the self-concealing, in the self-disguising, in the self-masking, in the self-veiling, in the self-obscurating, in the self-dimming, in the self-darkening, in the self-blackening, in the self-shadowing, in the self-shading, in the self-shadowing, in the self-eclipsing, in the self-obscuring.

You look at the shard in your hand, the light catching the edge, and you see your own face in it, a face that is not your face, a face that is the face of the woman, a face that is the face of the child, a face that is the face of the ghost, a face that is the face of the truth, and you realize that you are the traitor, that you are the one who betrayed the memory, who betrayed the love, who betrayed the life, who betrayed the self, and the realization is a blow, a strike, a hit, a punch, a kick, a slap, a smack, a crack, a bang, a boom, a crash, a smash, a shatter, a break, a split, a tear, a rip, a cut, a slice, a gash, a wound, a scar, a mark, a sign, a symbol, a token, a badge, a seal, a stamp, a brand, a burn, a scorch, a char, a blacken, a soot, a smoke, a flame, a fire, a blaze, a glow, a shine, a sparkle, a glitter, a gleam, a glint, a flash, a flicker, a spark, a ember, a coal, a cinder, a ash, a dust, a powder, a grain, a particle, a mote, a speck, a dot, a point, a tip, an end, a stop, a halt, a pause, a break, a rest, a stillness, a silence, a quiet, a calm, a peace, a serenity, a tranquility, a peace, a rest, a sleep, a dream, a vision, a phantom, a ghost, a spirit, a soul, a mind, a heart, a will, a desire, a hope, a fear, a love, a hate, a joy, a sorrow, an anger, a sadness, a happiness, a misery, a pleasure, a pain.

You place the shard on the table, and you walk out the door, and you go into the city, and you walk, and you walk, and you walk, and you do not look back, and you do not turn around, and you do not stop, and you do not rest, and you do not sleep, and you do not dream, and you do not wake, and you do not live, and you do not die, and you are, and you are not, and you are, and you are not, and you are, and you are not, and you are, and you are not, and you are, and you are not, and you are, and you are not, and you are, and you are not.