“It is on this large black lectern that I write this tracking report, drawing my strength from this world haunted by the presence of my twin. Am I prosecuting one murderer or several? A poet died in dubious circumstances - I would like this disappearance to be exemplary. May those who wonder how this event concerns them perhaps relive their moments of purity, emerging from a dream, a coincidence or a caress. At the turn of a mad hope realized or of astonishment in the face of the mysteries that animate the nearby universe. Listening to whispers, chimeras. May those who think, without admitting it, that poetry is a work of embroidery for eunuchs listen to the rumors of their brain, the drum of their desire, the aspirations of their boredom, may they stop repressing their revolt vis-à-vis -live the croaks of ugliness or morbid comfort. Who killed the poet? Take it easy... Even though it seems impossible, I must keep my mind sober. Otherwise, who knows, I will be silenced too. I will dismantle the mechanism of the facts. If possible, I will change the past.”