I have in another garbled speech like stripped tease renounced suicide and begun a kind of insomnia, an old habit telephone call that never comes just before dying, endlessly withdrawn to a pale madness opposite someone else's things.

and in a moment of incest pain, involuntarily surrounded by concentrical steps of forced televised confessions.

I begin in the face of you and you in me.

we stumble over a fallen annotation, dehumanized sidewalks implode from lack of public acknowledgment, for less than a living news paper generalized nothing takes place, no losses, just text identified as recyclable plumage.