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Love that is not nourished, imperceptibly,
little by little,
kills itself.
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- Tell me, how was work?
- Was cool!
- Any happenings?
- Oh, nothing special.
- Not even a fun fact?
- No.
- Okay.
- (...)
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It's hard to know how to leave, right?
We try to see the outside,
We distract ourselves to know if it's worth it,
but we know that much still holds us back.
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An unsuccessful attempt at communicating with someone
it's like holding a broom handle from the top with the palm of your hand open,
forehead propped in hand
and you rotating around that axis.
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