Among moons, rustlings of the anatomy of this last verse. Unspeakable stories pouring from the inner ear, that begins the form of the paragraph of this armistice.
We are meat of scars that rub them between lights and shadows, a reiterated phenomenon among the exuded nails that scratch this piece of paper.
Inert ends como to this army of bites, voices that write on the old structure of the body. Letters sewed on the skin of so blind loves.