The light is softer than before, it flattens all traces left by those who once showed him the way. At this point the earth is one with the sky. It's just like a surreal walk through a pathway at dawn, a ballerina leaping over hopping frogs. Lost in the infinite the beauty they expected to take over.
As she walks away, her shadow is trapped, it no longer follow her steps, the bond that connected them is gone. The sun redraws its path trying to fix the strangeness - too late - she will never look different. Blue or gray, blueish gray. The silhouette stands up, taps his back, the girl grows even more pale. Nothing more links him here, he unplugs his Lego legs. An enormous dove the girl rides to forgetful land, 1, 2, 3 she counts, she makes sure all her fingers are there, 4,5; 1, 2, 3, 4 5. He finally sleeps.
A realization strikes her mind “my words have become electricity”. She's not satisfied, she wants vibration. Fingertips are tired, fingertips are tired. She wants vibration. He wraps his body around her , shivering she is. She wants vibration. The feather she holds on to loosens up, in the mirror a flat face - her hero. She's falling, he no longer has legs. It's only hers, that's what she's got. Not even vibrations make her feel, “My words are energy”. He emptied a bowl, he is still thirsty.
A revolution is completed, two more he finds freedom. The ballerina uncovers the truth, multicolored vinyl record, needles on her feet she's got. She skates his life towards the center. A couple in the middle dances a waltz, the ballerina never stops. Revolving, revolving.
A word she says, time stops. He can finally catch the ballerina, at least he thinks. As he approaches the ballerina opens her eyes, he freezes, he is unable to move and see her at the same time, he is unable to breath or think, there's no time. Soon he realizes the ballerina is untouchable, she's always one instant ahead. Colors on the grooved ground, on the other side, future and past together. Reality is stable. The girl faints - her childhood is gone.
The greatest ballet ever performed, tiptoeing scratching feet, sharpness. What is written cannot be changed. He dances head standing, he screams, “I'm an animal!”. Fighting is hopeless, the girl fears to her bones, what comes next has been already done.
A woman now, she must behave accordingly, the world is real. The broken wing gives place to another, the melody seems to have rhythm. He finds his way out of the contrastless maze, time to go home. There's no time left, there's no home.
The crippled bastard crawls into his grave, at the bottom a slit is dilated, light and color come out of there, green, white and blue everywhere. It was nothing but a dream, troubled his vents blow steam. She holds her hero's hand, she cries as she can't stand. In that pain room, love once again blooms.
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