Hey... anyone there?
Hey, who is this?
Do you hear in the mid-April, my angels' cry?
Do you hear under my star-dusted cloak, my babies' breath?
Do you hear above my lava-filled heart, my giants' melt?
No, no... I can't.
Ageusia. Anosmia. Deafness. Blindness. Anesthesia.
No, no ... I can't.
Do cars needle through your ears?
My skin is itchy. I scratch, I smash. I pretend curing myself.
Do gossips split the curve?
Overwhelmed garbages, invisible, suffocation.
What is the use of the two mirrors on your face? Peering through others lives?
Why are you cutting my babies' limbs off? Stop it! You deaf people!
Why are you juicing my babies' flesh?
Why, why! What is the white piece? What is the square box? Where is the noise?
What? What? What? Hush, hush, hush...
I suppose to be gentle.
Hey, it is the sweetest devil. Isn't it? My dearest babies' blood.
Yes, you can smell. Is that the smell of Chanel or Clive Christian?
Is the baby a rose, or a lily? You can't, you can't?
You have all of the senses
Only unable to sense me.
Hey, I am in front of you.
Hey, I am all around you.
Can you taste me?
What a dead man.