It goes fading from the screen to be

 Dirty metaphors not fit for reading

They succumb to the magic of the forest. Their vibrations remain in the tissues. Going each time towards relief. There was a pause in the lull. We treated each other as if we were living in the future. I was going back from the future to avoid it. I don't know. I think. How are you my. as in you Until a day later when the effects are diluted. From the moment “pheromones”. They are not trapped in weak memory. Until they are invented. Without a doubt, as truth it is invented. New remains. With the density of facts, lived and felt, smelled, seen, heard. And your presence is no longer there. It fades from the screen of being.

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