Everything Ends With Flowers.

What Happens: Events Interiors, Snatch Them From The Cradle, From The Source. I Want To Watch Watching Arrive. I Want To Watch Arrivances. I Want To Find The Root Of Needing To Eat. And Taste It: Work Of Sweat / Sleep.

Everything Ends With Flowers.

We Must Kill The False Woman Who Is Preventing The Live One From Breathing.

In The Synagogue Of My Heart... I Myself Jail And The Jailed, I Go Wounded, Bite-marked

And I Was Afraid. She Frightens Me Because She Can Knock Me Down With A Word. Because She Does Not Know That Writing Is Walking On A Dizzying Silence Setting One Word After The Other On Emptiness. Writing Is Miraculous And Terrifying Like The Flight Of A Bird Who Has No Wings But Flings Itself Out And Only Gets Wings By Flying.