Delicate


They’ve given me time to undress you of your beautiful garment and here I am, trying to resuscitate my delicate pleasure of being alone. With a mild look on my face, ready to receive your smile again. I don’t know my name, instead, I believe there are things that remain with you all your life, like love or defeat. I’m doing my best to recover from last night, let me explain – you gave birth to our child and our child fell asleep. How much of this is understood, I don’t know, your name, the flowers, this cold sweat, the pain that stays peaceful inside. Some of us still connect to this dreadful disease. I make mistakes, yesterday I went to the theatre and when I came back, your music was gone – like in a game of tennis, like swimming, it requiers some skills. This flesh falls on the floor and you can hear a piano on the background. We travel through the light years of our life only to arrive somewhere, we find ourselves alone searching for one another when in fact there’s nobody around except our own misconceptions. And there you have it – suddenly it starts to rain and later that rain turns into snow only to put an end to everything and begin again from almost nothing.

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