Fruit of a consumed paralysis & Amok monkey who's brandishing a knife, Pretends to kill to be absolute burned in the open A soul thief, a determined subtleties - eater. A dispossessed human machine suffering from withdrawal symptoms Built in the most perfect opposition with the surrounding swamp To flee. The glaciation... A vertigo to forget a little where we have fallen - A violent display of himself - This dream of a hand that can stop and Any minute now a dream as we hope for it: Simple but full of subdivisions To know... and yet nothing else is Possible except what we have to think... I wish the one would come, The one who will find the world that can't brush against any lips... Any minutes now, I will fall in an indissoluble doubt... Everything will be beyond me To flee? From this informal toeing & froing There's no conclusion & no pneumatic wisdom... How long will it still last? Every day, I get up & invited in front of the mirror... While having an earnest desire to do it Who could give it a name?... All that an earnest desire to do it Who could give it a name?... All that is ridiculous, I was there just now without knowing what to do This is there books which drawing me my birth place How long will it still last?... I close my eyes... The rustle of the leaves is outside.