This book does not undress or define its author.
It does not aim to be a confession, nor the culmination of a long-awaited desire.
It gathers fragments: brief scenes, images, and words collected while the author wandered discreetly, trying not to draw attention.
It does not seek to explain who he is, nor to fix an identity.
Yet, in some way, each fragment carries a lingering resonance of what he has been.