Analysis of the chewed pencil (part II of "the suitcase")

your black pupil eclipses the keyhole
from which the only light engraves

i feel the wanton search by which
your eyes shutter and pendulates

for now, the only momentary
proof that life is here –
is the cold breath that accompanies me

as the darkness conforms to the presence
of the temperature and cellophane
the emptiness by which this suitcase contains
is what is left from this dismantled day

i see the chewed pencil that has stayed
and maybe it’s the only vestige of what we have
so author whatever essence is left un-scribed

for words that bruised like a million stones
are not the same as those a page can hold

but i realize this pencil has a broken point
and i snap it like my broken moans

the pencil that i grasped cannot write
but …………………. it can still erase