A forest resting on my palm

Let me
I want to fall into me
I've become ignorant of myself
As if my right hand chose to stay
Last November
Before he turned two
So I was born eleven times
And I wasn't complete

My left hand promised
To compensate me for the loss
But she's sensitive about time
She threw me into a black clock
So I ran with its obsessive hands
I got used to getting dizzy and wouldn't stop
From spinning like a possessed person

He's like this...
He who engineers his small universe
His fatigue finds comfort in reaching
Infinity
He satisfies everyone and is not satisfied

Even my name has forgotten me
He seduced with his red dress
On a dark night, and her jealousy swallowed him

I am no longer two homes...
I am one home
A wandering idea without wings
And this whole sky is mine.