on a trial.

I am on the train scrutinizing people faces seamed with the present worries and I wish I could escape from that grey despondency. The air laden with the smell of breakout and despair sigh. Somehow I am one of them and my heart starts to beat more rapidly. And in the end of the trip they may be very happy people. But where do I stand?

At that same moment I wrapped myself in serenity as if I was wrapping myself in a blanket. I imagined myself as a clay being shaped and moulded on the potter’s wheel. I was longing for you to touch the crude material and make something fine-looking out of it. I wish I wouldn’t be so attracted by your seminal singularity, because, oh God, there is nothing worse than maintaining neutrality. It makes me insanely mad. I am not a wall you are passing by. I am the human being and I need to feel.

I give up, take my pride and go away. You know where to find me, dear.

Agnes. 

The river rolls under.

I have lived through the most encouraging and wonderful night. You were in my dream more real than ever before and I could smell the haste of wind in your hair.

Just imagine two of us standing so near that I can barely close my eyes without tickling your cheek with my eyelashes.  I am terrified to touch your hand, but you start to laugh and I blush when you embrace my stature.

I can feel a cotton shirt against my bare shoulder and warm gooseflesh takes over my body when you lean to kiss my lips.

Either tonight or tomorrow, darling, just come whenever you feel like to.

Agnes.