Skin and border, limit of the place, dream of the known and forgotten,
a gap that adjusts the space occupied by your figure.
You are the shadow that in the air discovers the way of the senses,
body drawn by the echo of the absence that keeps it alive.
Your breathing, suspended in the air, finds the place sought by who you are .
The steps that reach the floor limit reflect the smell that your body evokes.
They are tracks like lights that illuminate the breaks of the road caressing
their privacy.
You can cross and scratch. There, under the floor on which you dance,
it smells of you, disguise of who you are not that helps to know who you are.
Words that tell what you are not talking about what they are.
You are who you are, what you were and what you will be and being what you are,
they will only be the witness of who you are: Smoke, air and trace of the place
where you lived in a tear kiss.