The last time I saw Beirut,
a full moon was curbing its rooftops...

0- The womb.
In the third week vision becomes clear...

It is Saturday 3:30 a.m.
I think I have thrown up enough...

With time,
speaking becomes exhausting...

I don't recall
the first time I knew him...

Two scenes that give life its taste:
1- The words that you never say...

Things haven't changed that much.
We've just glued shame...

One day, when all of this ends,
we will collect our bones...

Outside, there's too much noise
and little room for hope...

This boat, father,
this boat is drowning slowly...

Tonight, Jesus won't be born.
Trees, ornaments, nativity sets...

Collect
every civil lesson we've been taught...