In the throes of loneliness, our protagonist, a mysterious figure in the desert, finds solace in the rigid, unyielding company of his own hand. His 'verga', a term of endearment in these parts, stands tall and 'dura', a testament to his unquenchable thirst. Under the scorching sun, he takes refuge in the tent of his own making, a sanctuary of self-pleasure where he indulges in the sensation of his own flesh, a dance of one, a symphony of solitude.