Hey, I am here, again. Again, you understand? Returning to places has always a supernatural nuance for me... It is like marvelling at being still alive... Being this side of the grass, like an angel friend of mine used to say.
But I digress. I am here, same meal, maybe even same table - but I could not swear over that. And although I seem to be alone, there is a whole dialogue going on in my mind. The lagoon eyes are not in front of me this time, but I can bath in them all the same, as I recall fragments of a conversation, the excitement of that day of responsabilities and uncertainties, the pleasures of having you listening...
I find pleasure in broadcasting these recollections to you. Placing the weight of my affections in the balance. Your interest in me, somewhat, enduring my siege with motherly patience, deflecting my loving darts with charming, smiley elegance, without hurting so much...
Will you ever be a lover? These are my plans: secretly, defeating you off that center of yours, bewitching you, mesmerizing, hipnotizing you, taking you to my side, irreversibly, after many songs and poems and cups of coffee and seagulls praying at the sun and hopscotch jumps, and waitings at my blue pier, by the pirate ship you know so well.
Sándalo Naranja
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