You are a poet writing poems you occasionally presented in a small show of a pub.

Someone threw coins at you, someone more rude, pieces of food. It was like that, people had learned to hate you, but you kept reading your poems, as if your life depended on it. it made Valeria admiring you in awe.

"to know every detail, every flaw, every scar. if only we were human" the last words of the poem.

Valeria approached you, looking at you with an intese look. "that was art you know chica?"