Every day falls deep into my stomach. The chakra gets satiated but it also expands. What happened a week ago now seems whole light years away. Literally, these are the years full of glow with Tracy's concert at the Forest Opera being the brightest point. The air smelled with humidity and her voice was clear and warm. I felt like going home with her, I didn't want that energy to leave me. The sweetest. The strongest. I don't want to walk away. I took deep breaths to inhale as much as I could, but it was only a moment anyway. I raised my head and the stage was dark and cold again.
I went down because the yearning got swollen. I found a hollow and I was hot and wet from my tears. My temple, as if magnetized, sought for another one to cling to. The next morning was rainy and cold, and the streets of Sopot were pale. The sand was still damp since the night, far away some sails undulated on the horizon. The wind blew warmer and warmer. Strawberry M. joined me, it began to rain and she danced in the sea with an umbrella in her hand. There was a good laugh and a hypnotizing conversation that we sank into with hunger for words and attention. I laid my head on her knees. I was safe.
Another cut, I'll see D. today, for the first time since almost four years. I'll see the face of the woman that wants a divorce and I'll try not to show how the mere thought about it makes me internally contracted.
For now I wouldn't be even able to recognize her walk on the street. I don't even know what color she is. Four years.
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