shock. a pause. holding. waiting in vane for the impossible combination of words that will be able to put my thoughts through. utopic behaviour. the wait in itself is the pause between two sentences, the lapse separating two sips, two bites, two kisses, two blinks, two heart beats, two souls shouting at each other in the void, is silent. but my silence wonīt last. hope found support, and itīs now building a delight of a structure over the impossibility of my relentless refusal to pay the price.