When you feel as if, suddenly, the alarms will awaken your body and not his but a sad sketch, as pitiful, some other body desirous of finding a break between tissue and tissue between the top of your right ventricle and the mute and impenetrable center of his soul. And watched, emerging with modesty or fearful plunging into something that just sensed blue plasticine legs, his neck, naked and ashamed of my looks wicked dyed. Because she does not suspect, or so I think, the perfect escapism maneuver performed when distributed across the lawn slowly drops what she is but I would be, and succeeds, with perfect mimesis, provoke a desire in me the need to be someone else, or be all at once-sometimes hayo no difference, "but to be always at your side. Then looks at me, smiles, and asks me what I feel. I smile and say the only thing that can be said at the time: nothing, nothing wrong with me.
