Words

Have lost its worth. I mean, you can play with them as you want and build bigger units. You can think about them day and night, or even try to avoid getting too close. Of course, you can remove them from your lips and tag them with your teeth. You can lock them in a remaining whisper or have them shrouded by the shouts which are getting you hoarse.

And keep flowing. Are still the vomit and the breath taking you to the cliff. But this time there is no possible rescue.

Because now are empty. Because have chosen to dig their own grave instead of watching you dress them up with old clothes. Have chosen the migration as a new way of living, maybe inspired by those who previously were shaking their hands, maybe banished where their voices can come to a generational singing. Because are so tired of being murders with missing witnesses.