Interpellation essay. Looking for spring. Painting

Looking for spring... Where do the kisses, the caresses, the desires go when one is still thirsty, when the soul cries out for a whisper in the ear, to feel life, even death lurks. Where do the flirtatious smiles go when she covers her face and the music of the hug is interrupted. Where is the adrenaline stored, which wakes up the hairs and electrifies them, which fills us with fluids and opens our pupils behind the screen. Where do the tickles and sunsets go, the starry nights with the moon in this neurotic, chaotic world ... Where has everything gone in this nausea ... where we have kept the birds, where the flowers, where your aroma and the wind moving our clothes ... There is no virtuality that satisfies us, there is no reality that does not leave us looking for spring ...