Song filling the background- Nothing’s going to hurt baby. By-Cigarettes after Sex.
an experience involving the apparent perception of something not present.
Are you hallucinating?
The dreams we saw sitting at the seashore, allowing our giggles to fill the empty air, engrossed in the light of darkness, letting cigarettes burn in the heat of your stories, letting the waves to heal our heels.
The most deadly moment, I say.
What happened to you next? Why did the air asked to empty itself and why did the cigarettes turn cold? //Cold as your heart. Why did you smudge your mascara? You know you wore it storing your dreams inside, and now you feel dead?
The most deadly night, I say
I saw you! Yes, I did. Walking at the seashore, dark-eyed Wait! I can see your bruised thoughts aching in your mind, that pink colour turning pale blue, as you said “I am void of any value.”
The most deadly morning, I say.
Hey! Come here, you are beautiful. With your sullen eyes and patchy lips did you hear me? Did you? You are beautiful, you are not hallucinating, this is real. You are real, sitting at the corner of your bed reading this with a smile, preparing your pillow for the sleep, thinking of covering a mile.
The most beautiful day, I say.