They go on filling each other with silence. One day they wake up, over their arms. Then they think they know the whole thing. They see themselves naked and they know the whole thing. The lovers say nothing.
Love is the finest of the silences, the one that trembles most and is hardest to bear.
The lovers are looking for something. The lovers are the ones who abandon, the ones who change, who forget. Their hearts tell them that they will never find. They don't find, they're looking. The lovers wander around like crazy people because they're alone, alone, surrendering, giving themselves to each moment, crying because they don't save love.