One night, now so long ago, I went out with a wonderful person.
was early morning, I had broken her stockings and a desire to kiss you I could not satisfy.
We were there ', sitting at a sidewalk table in a vacuum. Stepped over him to go to buy beer. The fall of the cigarette ashes on her breast.
He spent only a few women from time to time. And we invented a life for each.
If there is not any, read the newspaper. German aloud. He, a teacher of all those proud - even when there 'no reason to be.
was on that morning, a little 'joke and a bit' confident, asked me to get a notebook, writing what I wanted to tell you when you were not there. What I wanted.
Name the first page. Then the rest was all Thracian free.
And that evening, while I think of you, un'agendina blue embroidery of words and images. Dreams and fantasies, vivid colors, with the sincerity 'of a girl, wanting you more on him.
Maybe it 's finished, maybe not. In any case, when you looked me yesterday, I felt the weight of the ice between our eyes. A weight of time has elapsed, a weight from last legs.
So that tomorrow is the day of yours, so if you 'want.
curious to see your face, curious to see you smile through the pages. I was Umberto Eco, the poison, to those pages. Instead are nothing more than Claudia Palamara, then I'll make 'drop two puffs of perfume and then waiting for an answer.
curious to see how much you really cared /-si.
What I like the feeling that soon, I'll have 'to worry about much more than you.
Perhaps maybe, the wind starts to pull the right way.
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