would be so easy if I could get rid of it
In his hands, his eyes, nails and hair. With joy
observe the perspective from which they know life
temporal fading like a cloud in the sky
the bouncing gently. New
cells, new fabrics (new threads). Interpretations
not represent me.
Sensations
today are outside when I want to be the stranger.
what I would not want to be, but who would be
is a person who know. How I can assure
therefore that would be him?
was faced with two paths:
lose what's left of me trying to be him
Or try to be me losing what remains of that desire to be him.
As I write, I'm
tedious interval between them.
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