It’s rain being loud outside, indelicate stranger who makes the stillness become intimate with its cold metal melody against the windowsill.
He knows I am going to forgive every feeling sowed by him.
Inexplicable sorrow, because he doesn’t play his tune just for me, mysterious desire to slake my thirst for him never being enough, embracing serenity.
He fills my cup with a hot chocolate and puts the rug around my shoulders.
The smell of never – fading trust ruffles ocean of longing.
He switches off the TV channel and makes me listen.
He melts my prejudice with the charm and doesn’t ask for the answers.
Most importantly he doesn’t make me lie.
…
His presence is so real, so royal and so simple that I forget…I am not the only one he is on stage for…
Agnes.
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