I don't know where to listen to, to my fingers that are attracted by the hair on your necknOr to my arms that push you awaynI can't do anything else than bending down my head...nnThis bow that has lost its taste and this sensation that I've interrupted when I tilt backnOf course I want to fill the gap, if the suffering would thennnI don't feel anything anymore...uncountable memories that abandonnIf I could lie to myself to improve the present, I would certainly do itnnOne single grain of the black dust falls and affiliates with the othersnThe sharp fingernail trembles because of the rusty voice, strong and weaknnAmbiguous words, ambiguous gazesnAmbiguous stories, averted in an ambiguous mannernnI don't feel anything anymore...uncountable memories that abandonnIf I could lie to myself to improve the present, I would certainly do itnnIf this luck would last forever...nWhen will I find my laughter??nnThe time has stopped, the world eludes, the fading traces are twistingnThey are disappearing in the distance, the warm heart, the rusty voice, strong and weak n