“Our last tear will be swept away by the cold wind blowing upward”
And it is all in this deafening and gelid silence. Exhausted and mislaid. Nothing remains of me. Only ashes and bones and tears and cries, ropes dragging me down, anchored more and more to this land cold and cramped. No more screaming or tears. (Only the absence and coils). I can’t no more. You dragged me here, you are the hatred I wanted to hide, everything I didn’t want to know. The end of every dream, The desert of ash and wax where I drown. I can’t breathe, I feel the frost on my remains, on my shreds. Exhausted and rabid. I would like to bite you while I tense for the last time, for the last the last breath for the last a rotten embrace. Now everything is blurry and the blue of that sky that I will never see again, lands on me as if it were the only remains of a life that will not return. This emptiness in me the only witness. Of this absence, K. Lightly touches the abyss, but you can only feel it, not visible to the few alive, if not in that border between my broken / gutted back and the coils.
— Riccardo D’Avola Corte