Out of the song!

 Clear as you appear. About the. I look at you waiting for your signals. In case I stay to dress doors. And sing: «In me, my. Of one, one. To his airs I approach. With his cape I cover myself. And if the cold sneaks in, I blow, I blow.” Out of the song! Don't sneak into her, impertinent. Strangers we were. We were the first moments. And then, then, sleight of hand. With them we made beautiful waves for the nights.

Palimpseste sur painting. Mirror Sub-Irrealism. Random intratextuality.