8 minuit.

 

She never kissed a girl.

You beautiful, you are still in time to sign my book.

Yes, we have to meet, we have to meet in the secret garden, or in any other place of your choice and find ourselves.

Ey girl.

I understand and accept what is understandable. I understand you, what you feel and say, what you would like, wish and want. It is understandable, and to understand something is something and good. You are good and beautiful.

Chapter I

I like your coat, look soft and pure, The color of your lips, your smile, the bright in your blue eyes. The hair, can I touch it? Caress and kiss you? 

Chapter II

Of course we have to end our love story.

Chapter III

A lot on this perspective what we are seeing from the window where we are standing at the moment. We´re seeing ourselves playing Chapter I, caresses and kisses with each other in the secret garden. 

Chapter 0

The act

Hey tell me how it´s going?

Are you enjoying it?

What´s in the mirror? In the iris of your eyes?

Please can you tell me what you wrote and painted on the window and on the wall?

Une croix, des fleurs aux pétales blancs, un volet, du verre et de l’herbe vert sauvage... 

A cross, flowers with white petals, a shutter, glass and green salvage grass... 

Agent Orange

Caramel on the book pages. 

How does it taste? The lines and the ink, the words, punctuation, sentences, and final paragraph periods on the blank pages of your book? Did you read it? Did you wrote? What went and run in your soul? Thoughts, feelings, emotions, events?

The Queen is married and lost in the middle of the mail letters. Blackmailed by the postman and by the studios gatekeeper.

La reine

Everything happen within a prayer and meditation in nature, in the secret garden.

Everything I did I did it for you and for me.

When you went for a run and exercise. The day, the time and the place where we first crossed paths. The days that passed slowly, that were endless. The waiting time, the patience that was running out and the desperation to find you, to cross paths with you again in one of your escapades and races that had no scheduled days. I wanted to be and talk to you, give you roses.

Autumn has arrived and then winter, you spent most of your days in the warmth of your home.

Then I wanted to know when you were at home, when you were alone. Inside a car across the street. One day I jumped over the wall, walked through the garden and climbed a tree, and there you were, by the window writing your book. I remember the day as if it were today, it was raining and one of the drops of rain made me fall on the pages of your book. You had gone to the bathroom, because you had your fingers full of ink, however you heard a strange noise and went back to see what that noise had been. Your really lifted your feet from the floor when you saw me there. You took a jug and broke it on the couch where you were writing your book. You lost pages of the book, phrases and words. But the worst thing that happen was that I was on those pages, you were writing things and I was there, in those words, phrases and pages. You slapped me, and that was the beginning of our relationship.