the walls have ears, they used to say these walls are full of screams of declamation of a burning stream of bodies with parfumed names love confused diffused in this internal flight being chased while chasing unrecognizable the face of truth for now the warmness the softness of bodies so promising so alluring the illusion, a fleeting connection so powerful that there is no one to guard the depth of this edge, me and the anti-me this disconnection sings lullabies to my zest for life the right vision comes to those who wait it is unbearable at first, cause you are not used to your eyes seeing through the water, let alone the abyssal depth of blood
this could be a poem I could have written if I were you but the most strange of it all is that I am this you and the other you luckily the light is untraslatable and you can see it too