The clock says it's stormy

 An empty face. The clock says it's stormy. Vertigo of time. An out of tune cry calls us in front of the out of tune mirror when the body is all perception. You tell me. You have me with more. Mme Never in use. I have . not to know me. By speech the blind man flows. For more words I wait for you. And and then later you don't tell me anything. With too much arbitrary mouth that is squeezed poor and bitter; Because it's time to cry. When the idling trains pass. The motionless cheeks cool. As if it was late.

Autobiographies. Write en miroir. Palimpseste sur painting. Mirror Sub-Irrealism. Random intratextuality.