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Think of a word, thank you.
In this way, your face suddenly enlarged in front of me. I thought you would hold me in your arms, or, but you just put a necklace on me, and then the smell that belongs to you went away, leaving me and the weight under my neck (looking at your back) all over the floor.

I understand this feeling, and I think of some sentences, which may be fragmentary: your bracelet is on my shoulder, so far away that I can't help shivering, trying to restrain my inner fluctuations. I looked down slightly, my face flushed, imagining your kiss, and I bit my lip to hold back my smile. You cocked your head and fiddled with something heavy that I hadn't noticed before, and you didn't give me a gentle button. It's not what I thought. The weight on this neck seems to sink me into the abyss. . .