Tremors, and you don't even tell me you want me. What am I to understand if you keep your words hidden beneath your shirt, conceal your gestures deep inside your pockets, and crush nature itself beneath the soles of your shoes? You left me with my lips still gleaming, crimson with enchantment. With the hungry wolf you left me, to stalk me from every dark corner, from the poetry... you forgot at my place. From the spell you dropped me, leaving me— the heartbreaking oboe, trembling me. Until... you will completely tear me apart, Until... your beautiful... fingers will burst out of me, caressing, for the very last time, my skin... Until your mouth finally speaks what your hands keep telling me, I will not be able to forget, to live, to die.
