A society of souls, uneven spirits inhabit
some powerful and others powerless
this body and its smoke, its fluids, its bursts
the limit between worlds
mine and not mine:
all is done in pawn.
Take it back!
I want nothing!
The air is a luxury and I should be content
away from the war
taken on by false solitudes,
the solitudes with fear are not solitary at all.
Only the hypnotic is real,
and its mad laughter.
Only the skin that merges and touches