“You don’t exist,” she said.
“You leave no footsteps in this sand,
your skin is vapor, you hair is air,
I stare at nothing, are you aware?”
“Do you know you’re gone?” she asked.
“Your face is a void poorly masked,
you infiltrate, and play these games,
but I hear no sounds, I see no traces.”
“When this night is finally over,
and the world awakes at last,
you will disappear,” she says.
“And don’t pretend that you are sad.”