Les yeux sans visage

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Collecting major losses left and right. Unpacking the stuff. Georgia downstairs offering me food as a recompense, but I have no desire. All except to fade away. Lost everything and paid the price. The colour of my face. All for a sweet embrace. A mother collecting her young, and the young collecting the younger. My youngest. The worst farewell. So what else do I have to say? I am the emperor's new gloves. Going home with a handful of gold. Collecting major losses in a wartorn land. It suddenly struck me: I might just die with a smile on my face after all. Qui currunt.

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