I hesitate. Still. Swinging. Yet, I am alone.

There is no noise.

Just a sound. Slight. Sustained.

Sour in the beginning. Sweet at the end.

An Instrument discusses within another one. A Hypnotic heat flows over it. My guts are swaying. Numbed. Redundant. In a rhythmic network.

I am dependent. Anaesthetized. Floating.

At the pace of the tempo. I vibrate. My chest sinks as I resonate.

A flow of informations binds me up.

My velvet organ snuggled against my silence.

Basically I watch. I listen. I analyse. I alternate between repetitions and variations.-What do you think?-I don't know. Well, not yet. I'm waiting. I'm clinging.The movement is too much. My entrails are laughing like whales.

Distant. Deep