it´s a losing battle: merciless motion of hands, the subtlety of digits shifting shapes, upon our wrists we keep the weights that drag us down, we´re all defeated trying to keep up with all these days and nights that run away, dragging us all along with it, refusing to leave us unchanged, merciless motion of hands, folding over constantly, around and around, no body can be certain of its form, try holding on to something, falling to bits and pieces, everything`s left traces and overnight winter arrived plucking even the last leaves with its burning cold, time erases everything.