Yesterday to remember the present. The have been. We are in the silence of life. Or in the promise of tomorrow. Of the only tomorrow we have left. As having been in intentions kept in not wear. Named as if that were enough. Planned in your cloudy space of love with fear. Here is your share of loss that crosses looking for us. When it returns it evaporates as if that part of us had not existed is lost in the world of good love and sadness.
Write en miroir. Palimpseste sur painting. Mirror Sub-Irrealism. Random intratextuality.