Everyone is just the heart of the earth pierced by a ray of sunshine:
and is now pear.
.
Solitude, says the poet himself, perhaps a garden or a wall apart. That 's where youth distress seeks its fast, intuitive (that sudden flash ...), deceptive therapies. Drugs? You just wonder if you can not.
But there is interpretation less dramatic, more futile. The usual single desperate and eternal diet. A sunny day, breakfast on the terrace: salad, bread crumb. It comes, alas, all too soon, the moment of fruit.
