what do I know about you?
from memory:
-you are italian.
-you are a girl/woman (depends on how you see it really).
-you’re living somewhere close to firenze.
-you have a cat & a man.
-you sing like fiona apple.
-you like the beatles.
-you think a lot/too much (just guessing, but i kinda know).
-you like photography & writing.
now, what can one deduct from information like this? well, i don’t know, but maybe something along the lines of: you are watching the cat sneak out of the window, following the scent of a thousand imaginary parakeets, your fingers are still sticky from the honey-glazed watermelon you supposedly ate before breakfast, but as time took it’s turn became the breakfast, somewhere across the sky a cloud is forming into the shape of a swordfish breaking out of a wave, but as you try to awaken your man with your left hand, searching across tossed linen, eyes fixed on the swordfish, smashing through the waves, the cloud shifts & as the tail calmly wriggles into the skywater, you hear him, not snoring, just breathing with life, & you know he too saw the wave breaking, swordfish bustling, eyes closed, his beard scratching against the pillow, & all is good, you put on some music.
my power of deduction is weak right now, but i hope you’ll forgive me. now please, tell me about everything, & so will i.
hugs, mr b
(why is that picture so huge? i don’t understand this, must base everything on luck.)
And it finally came. I was waiting, I read it one week ago. And it finally came. I am going to answer. I am going to be alive. I am going to be here.