It is a way of thinking more slowly to talk to myself. I'm sure you can not be there, but I talk to you. And I contradict you, not with logic and reason, but with the taste. I'll taste you, bite you, savor you. It is a time that does not pass. A gap that has always existed. The pleasure of being now and will do later. How can desire what then finishes while you would like to continue? As I sit with her, I feel that I lack the eyes to see her at all. I thought all this, walking in a cold morning, the day after, I feel alive.