A mystery is what it becomes for me, day by day, from class to class. This feeling of belonging, without ever being able to hold on. To be the object of a sinful, hidden, secret, mysterious desire. Here we are again, in this mystery, a nothingness for me, what is it for you?
The smoke is not caught it is seen, it feels, it if misses in each part of your body, you do not expect it, you feel it only once it is you. That you are her. Unjust fate. Or deep will to lose control. What is a word when it fills a temptation in spite of itself? Is it a sign, an omen or a fault? Children make mistakes, adolescence seems to put an end to this fragility, but this lure conceals as...