He took meat myths. Or more. Whole days of whys. Only hands of loneliness. Or painted glass. Long hands from the eye look. Trapped, stuck, they walk on velvet walls. With their las. With his she. His love far and near. Enclosed. She he she. We lay on the ground, incurable. Of love and flight. Thick bone. Heavy for air weakness. Who knocks him down by twisting the shoulder on which he was leaning. Drop the flight at the border of the air.

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